SACHA  CUITItY 


• -s^^ 


ilifornia 
ional 

ity 


HE  ENGLISH  VERSION  BY 

I.  GRANVILLE  BARKE 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 


Kenneth  Maogowan 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/deburaucomedyOOguitiala 


DEBURAU 

A  COMEDY 

BY 

SACHA  GUITRY 


IN  AN  ENGLISH  VERSION 

BY 

HARLEY  GRANVILLE  BARKER 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

XCbe     fcnicfterbocher      press 

1921 


Copyright,  1921 

BY 

H.  GRANVILLE  BARKER 

The  acting  rights  of  Deburau  for  the  United  States  and  Canada  are  owned 
and  controlled  by  David  Belasco. 


^•^ 


Printed  in  the  United  Slates  of  America 


College 
library 


NOTE 

It  was  the  business  of  the  present  translator  of 
Deburau — and  therefore  he  hesitates  formally  to 
adopt  the  title — to  provide  for  English  speaking 
actors,  as  nearly  as  might  be,  parallel  opportuni- 
ties to  those  the  French  had  enjoyed  in  the  pro- 
duction of  the  play.  No  theory  of  dramatic 
translation  was  brought  into  question;  this  was 
the  task  set. 

It  was  easy  and  obvious  then  to  keep  to  the 
irregular  verse,  if  the  difficulty  of  peppering  it 
with  rhymes  was  faced.  This  was  both  that  any 
hint  of  the  peculiarly  English  blank  verse  might 
be  avoided  and  with  it  any  temptation  to  weighti- 
ness  of  speech  be  the  better  shimned,  and  that  a 
certain  amusing  artificiality,  even  impertinence 
of  method  might  be  added — by  the  actor  quite 
noticeably  added. 

Sacha  Guitry's  meaning  has,  it  is  hoped,  been 
stuck  to,  detail  by  detail.    But  where  it  has  seemed 

3 


572583 


NOTE 

that  only  a  paraphrase  could  avoid  the  appearance 
of  labouring  it  (a  sin  that  he  never  commits)  the 
English  does  sometimes  travel  wide  of  the  literal 
mark.  And  it  is,  generally  speaking,  upon  such 
lines  as  these  that,  when  questions  have  arisen, 
the  decisions  have,  one  by  one,  each  for  some 
practical  end,  been  made. 

One  could  defend  this  method  in  theory.  The 
play  is  material  for  the  actor.  In  any  translation 
he  must  perforce  be  presented  with  goods  that 
have  lost  their  first  freshness  in  transit.  There 
will  be  points  where  to  think  and  feel  as  a  foreigner 
will  render  him  as  unintelligible  to  his  audience 
as  the  foreign  speech  itself  would  do.  One  must 
"adapt,"  bearing  in  mind  what  his  means  of  inter- 
pretation are.  Cutting  is  seldom  a  good  way  out 
of  a  difficulty;  the  play  is  too  soon  impoverished 
and  its  structure  weakened.  The  translator,  in- 
deed, is  more  often  under  the  temptation,  knowing, 
as  he  goes  along,  how  much  is  being  lost,  to  attempt 
to  compensate  by  addition.  For  the  actor  is  de- 
manding— and  has  a  right  to — full  measure  of 
material.  With  his  task  to  come  he  will  be  at  a 
grave  disadvantage  without  it.  Does  this  mean 
that  if  it  cannot  be  supplied  him  according  to  the 

4 


NOTE 

strict  rules  of  translation  he — and  we — should  go 
without  altogether?    Possibly. 

But  a  play  in  any  case  must  not  be  judged  by 
the  printed  page — where  it  lies  inanimate,  incom- 
plete. That  first  translation  from  its  author's 
mind  is  but  one  of  many,  and  whether  it  be  found 
completed  in  a  native  or  an  alien  theatre,  the  dif- 
ference is  but  of  the  number  of  removes,  the  num- 
ber and  variety  of  translators  that  will  have  been 
employed. 

This  is  neither  excuse  nor  justification  for  any 
liberties  that  follow — though  indeed,  they  are  not 
numerous  or  ever  wilful — but  there  is  implied  a 
recommendation  to  read  M.  Sacha  Guitry's  play 
in  the  original  when  such  a  far  better  opportunity 
occurs. 

H.  G.  B. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Prologue     

II 

The  First  Act 

19 

The  SEC0^rD  Act          .        .         .         . 

•             85 

The  Third  Act 

.          127 

The  Fourth  Act          .        .        .        . 

.          187 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  PLAY 


of    the    Theatre    des 
Funambtiles 


JEAN  GASPARD  DEBURAU 

MARIE  DUPLESSIS 

MONSIEUR  BERTRAND  ] 

ROBILLARD 

LAURENT 

LAPLACE 

JUSTINE 

MADAME  RfiBARD 

CLARA 

HONORINE 

CLEMENT 

THE  BARKERS 

THE  MONEY  TAKER 

THE  PROMPTER 

MADAME  RABOUIN 

CHARLES  DEBURAU 

A  YOUNG  MAN 

A  DOCTOR 

A  LADY 

A  JOURNALIST 

MARIE  DUPLESSIS*  MAID 

'  The  French  word  Aboyeur  has  found  its  way  to  America, 
though  hardly  to  England,  in  the  simple  translation  "Barker." 
This  is  the  man  who  stands  outside  the  booth  with  a  big  drum  and 
barks  out  the  attractions  of  the  show  within. 


) 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 

In  the  pantomime  the  parts  are  thus  distributed : 

PIERROT Jean  Gaspard  Deburau 

THE  OLD  CLO'  MAN Laurent 

CASSANDRE Laplace 

THE  MARQUIS , Clement 

THE  DUCHESS Madame  R^bard 

COLUMBINE Justine 

THE  SOUBRETTE Clara 

There  is  besides  an  orchestra  of  two  violins,  a  piano, 
a  double  bass,  a  cornet. 

Among  the  audience  watching  the  play  in  the 
Th^tre  des  Funambules  can  be  seen  Victor  Hugo, 
Georges  Sand,  and  Alfred  de  Musset. 

The  prologue  is  given  in  front  of  the  theatre,  the 
first  act  in  the  auditorium,  the  second  at  Marie  Du- 
plessis',  the  third  in  Deburau's  garret,  and  the  fourth 
act  in  the  theatre  again. 

We  are  in  Paris  in  1839. 


10 


THE  PROLOGUE 

The  scene  is  in  front  of  the  Theatre  des  Funam- 
bules'  (The  Rope-dancers).  Bertrand,  the  money- 
taker,  a  faded  Uttle  woman,  and  the  Barker  are 
to  be  seen;  the  Barker  with  his  big  drum  is  very- 
prominent.  The  orchestra  is  seated  on  a  bench 
playing  away. 

By  the  door  a  written  bill  is  hanging,  which 
announces : 

BY  SPECIAL  LICENCE 

TO-DAY 

SEPTEMBER  21,  1 839 

FOR  THIS  OCCASION  ONLY 

THE  WONDERFUL  PERFORMANCE 

OF 

THE  OLD  CLO'  MAN 

BY 

M.  COT.  D'ORDAN 

IN  WHICH 

JEAN  GASPARD  DEBURAU 

WILL  APPEAR 

»It  an  English  equivalent  is  needed,  the  "Follies"  Theatre 
seems  as  good  as  another. 

II 


THE  PROLOGUE 

Another  placard  on  the  door  of  the  theatre  tells 

us  the  prices  of  the  seats. 
The  orchestra  stops.    The  Barker  with  his  big 

drum  steps  forward  and  begins : 
Barker: 

Pleasure  seekers  of  Paris,  you  never  need  be  at  a 

Loss  for  amusement  while  you  have  our  theatre. 

First,  O  mighty  population, 

Admire  the  moderation 

Of  the  prices  that  we  charge! 

Come  in  a  cab,  or  in  a  coach  and  four. 

We  do  not  ask  you  more. 

No,  you  can  cut  a  dash,  and  cut  it  thrifty. 

In  our  stage  boxes  which  are  one  franc  fifty. 

The  upper  boxes  are  not  quite  so  large 

But  you  sit  closer  to  her.    Man  alive, 

Aren't   they   a   bargain   at   one   franc   twenty- 
five! 

Orchestra  .    .    .  fifteen  sous. 

Can  you  do 

Better  for  fifteen  sous? 

But,  wait  a  bit ! 

We  admit 

You  to  the  pit 

For  ten, 

12 


THE  PROLOGUE 

And  one  word  more ! 

Though  when 

I  tell  you  you  may  wonder  how  we  do  it,  yet  we  do; 

you  can  get  into  the  gallery  for  four. 
And  what  a  show ! 
Surely  you  know 
That  there's  nothing  to  touch  it. 
Its  merits  are  such  it — 
What,  sir!    You're  going  next  door! 
Well,  it's  not  one  of  my  ways 
To  say  a  word  in  dispraise 
Of  a  rival. 
Thank  God,  here  we  don't  need  to  boast,  we  can 

afford  to  be  modest  and  civil 
But,  it's  kinder  to  warn  you  .    .    .   though  truly 

you'll  go  there  just  once  and  no  more. 
Unless  you  prefer — some  people  do  of  course — 
A  singer  that's  hoarse; 
And  a  dancer  rheumatic; 
And  acrobats  about  as  acrobatic 
As  a  spavined  broken-winded  cab  horse ; 
A  comedian,  as  witty  as  the  wild  Man  of  Borneo. 
That's  the  fare 
You'll  get  there, 

By  all  means  try  it,  my  dear  sir. 

13 


THE  PROLOGUE 

While  here  you've  Deburau 

That  marvellous  Pierrot. 

The  one  and  only 

Supreme  and  lonely 

In  his  fame. 

For  all  the  others,  all  Pierrots 

Before  he  came, 

Were  nothing  better  than  puppets  of  wood. 

He's  the  first  that  has  understood 

What  can  be  made  of  that  weird  white  figure. 

You  sit  and  wonder  how  it's  done. 

Never  a  word  he  speaks,  and  yet — 

Never  a  wink  to  point  the  fun 

— And  yet  you  laugh. 

And  yet  you  feel  your  eyes  grow  bigger. 

You  may  even  feel  the  tears  come  tumbling. 

How  does  he  do  it,  how  with  half — 

Not  half — not  a  quarter  of  what  other  actors 

get 
Words  and  music  and  make-up  to  help  them? 
I  must  say  it's  humbling 
(If  I  were  an  actor  I'd  feel  it  so) 
To  be  left  no —  » 

Nowhere  at  all  by  a  mere  Pierrot, 
By  a  bundle  of  white  rags  called  Pierrot. 

14 


THE  PROLOGUE 

And  when  Pierrot 

Is  Deburau 

That's  so. 

For  the  rest  of  the  cast : 

Alexandre — Monsieur   Laplace;   The   Marshall — 

Laurent  the — Front  places  ?    No,  sir,  I  much  fear 

that  we've  sold  the  last. 
No,  not  quite  the  last. 
There  are  just  two 
Left.    Will  they  do? 
Laurent,    the    Marshall,    Madame    R6bard,    la 

Duchesse. 
Can  I  give  you  her  address  .    .    .   her  private 

address  ? 
I  could!    The  soubrette — 
Mademoiselle  Clara  is  the  soubrette. 
One  more  yet. 
Columbine,  Justine. 
Yes,  indeed,  Justine! 
And  where  have  you  been 
Not  to  know  Justine  ? 
Shell  turn  your  head  when  she  turns  on   her 

toe. 
(Which  Justine!    Are  there  twenty  Justines?) 
New  dresses !    New  scenes  I 

15 


THE  PROLOGUE 

And  a  new  two-act  play 
Entitled  "Old  Clo'!" 
We  begin.    Right  away! 

He  retires.  The  orchestra  strikes  up  again  and 
the  scene  changes  to  the  inside  of  the  theatre, 
where  we  face  the  stage  upon  which  the  perform- 
ance of  "The  Old  Clo'  Man"  is  proceeding  .    .   . 


i6 


DEBURAU 


THE  FIRST  ACT 


17 


THE  FIRST  ACT 

.  The  house  is  full  and  enthusiastic. 
Some  of  the  audience  are  fashionably  dressed;  and 
in  one  of  the  boxes  is  Victor  Hugo  with  Georges 
Sand  and  Alfred  de  Musset.  But  the  greater  part 
of  the  people  there  are  "the  people,"  and  some  of 
the  men  are  in  their  shirt  sleeves.  Before  the 
curtain  rose,  no  doubt  they  were  whistling,  sing- 
ing, jostling  one  another  while  they  waited. 

(Here  follows  the  story  of  "The  Old  Clo'  Man" 
as  told  by  Th6ophile  Gautier  in  the  Revue  de  Paris 
of  September  4,  1842.) 

"The  scene  is  a  street,  a  'public  place'  just  as  it 
would  be  in  a  Moli^re  play.  Pierrot  is  walking  to 
and  fro,  his  hands  tucked  deep  in  his  sleeves,  head 
bent,  and  lagging  feet.  He  is  sad,  his  bosom  is 
charged  with  secret  sorrow.  But  his  heart  is 
empty  and  his  purse  no  fuller;  for  if  he  asks  his 

19 


DEBURAU 

master,  Cassandre,  for  money,  all  he  gets  is  one  of 
those  most  peremptory  kicks  which  make  up  so 
large  a  part  of  pantomime  dialogue. 

"Poor  Pierrot!  What  a  wretched  business! 
Kicks,  but  no  halfpence.  Little  to  eat  and  that 
not  often.  Can  we  wonder  that  he  looks  pale ;  who 
wouldn't?  And  to  crown  his  misery  Pierrot  is  in 
love,  not  with  Colimibine's  pretty  black-eyed  phiz 
and  lozenged  flounces,  but  with  a  lady,  a  very 
great  lady,  a  duchess  at  least,  whom  he  saw  getting 
out  of  her  carriage,  at  a  church  door,  at  the  opera, 
no  matter  where.  In  love  as  he  is  and  half -starved 
as  well  Pierrot  is  really  afraid  that  his  looks  may 
suffer.  He  feels  his  nose;  it  has  grown  so  thin; 
his  legs,  they're  no  bigger  than  a  ballet  dancer's 
arms.  But  that  is  not  what  really  troubles  him, 
for,  after  all,  a  lover  only  looks  more  interesting 
for  looking  wan  and  pale.  He  longs  to  go  into  the 
great  world  of  fashion  where  he  may  see  his  adored 
one — and  Pierrot  has  no  clothes  at  all  but  his 
blouse  and  his  baggy  white  trousers.  What,  go 
to  a  duchess's  party  dressed  like  that !  Neither 
clothes  nor  money,  what  can  he  do?  How  make 
his  way  into  those  marvellous  gardens  of  Eden, 
all  glorious  with  the  glitter  of  candelabra,  with 

20 


ACT  I 

ladies,  with  flowers — he  has  seen  them  vaguely 
shining  through  the  lighted  windows  of  the  houses 
of  the  great. 

"While  Pierrot  is  a  prey  to  these  bitter  thoughts, 
cursing  his  gods,  fortune,  and  fate,  there  passes  by 
an  old  clo'  man  with  his  pack  of  cast-off  garments. 

*"0h,  if  I  only  had  that  apple-green  coat  and 
those  fine  striped  trousers,'  says  Pierrot  to  himself, 
his  eye  shining  covetously,  his  fingers  itching  from 
temptation;  and  even  as  he  says  it  he  stretches 
his  hand  out  and  draws  it  back,  once  and  again. 
The  old  clo'  man  has  just  been  buying  the  dis- 
carded wardrobe  of  a  National  Guard,  past  the 
age  limit,  whose  sword  he  carries  imder  his  arm, 
looking  rather  less  warlike  than  an  umbrella.  Its 
innocent  brass  hilt  is  there,  to  Pierrot's  very  hand, 
and  he  seizes  it.  The  old  clo'  man  is  going  his 
way  imconscious.  Pierrot  but  stands  motionless 
grasping  the  hilt  of  the  sword,  and  the  blade  is 
swiftly  drawn  from  the  sheath  which  the  old  man 
carries  along  with  him.  From  the  shining  blade  a 
deviHsh  thought  is  reflected  in  Pierrot's  face  and  in 
an  instant  he  sheathes  it  again,  not  in  its  scabbard, 
but  in  the  body  of  the  poor  wretch  before  him ;  runs 
him  through  and  through,  and  he  falls  stone  dead. 

21 


DEBURAU 

' '  Pierrot,  quite  unconcerned,  takes  from  the  pack 
the  smartest  clothes  he  can  find,  and  then,  to 
cover  the  traces  of  his  crime,  flings  the  corpse 
through  the  grating  of  a  cellar.  Safe  from  dis- 
covery then,  he  is  off  home,  to  dress  himself  in 
his  finery  and  to  set  out  to  find  the  great  lady  of 
his  love.  When  all  of  a  sudden,  up  pushes  the  cellar 
flap  and  through  it  his  victim's  ghost  arises,  wrapped 
in  a  trailing  shroud,  the  point  of  the  sword  blade 
still  sticking  from  his  breast  and  calling  in  a  hollow 
voice,  just  as  before  'Old  Clo'!  Old  Clo'!' 

"  How  shall  one  picture  the  terror  on  Pierrot's 
whitened  face  as  he  hears  this  voice  from  the  tomb ! 
He  makes  up  his  mind  though  to  be  done  once  and 
for  all  with  such  fears  and  hallucinations.  And  he 
snatches  a  great  billet  of  wood  from  a  stack  near 
by  and  begins  a  terrible  fight  with  the  ghost, 
which  escapes  and  parries  the  first  few  blows,  but 
in  the  end  gets  the  great  billet  full  on  the  head. 
It  knocks  him  clean  into  the  cellar  again.  Pierrot, 
to  make  assurance  doubly  stu"e,  hurriedly  throws 
all  the  logs  of  wood  on  the  top  of  him,  and  then, 
piHng  sarcasm  upon  villainy  too,  he  leans  his  head 
over  the  grating  and  imitating  the  ghost's  voice, 
calls 'Old  Clo'!    Old  Clo'!' 

22  ' 


ACT  I 

"Is  not  this  an  excellent  spectacle,  a  fine  jest,  a 
queer  imagining,  such  as  Shakespeare  himself 
would  not  have  disowned!" 

Unluckily  the  limitations  of  the  theatre  have 
obliged  the  present  author,  this  first  scene  over, 
to  simplify  and  to  pick  out  from  among  the  aston- 
ishing events  of  the  play,  those  which  the  needs  of 
his  own,  as  he  has  planned  it,  will  allow  him 

This  is  how  Theophile  Gautier's  account  of  it 
ends,  after  he  has  described  the  horrifyingly 
ridiculous  ball  where  Pierrot  meets  his  death  and 
the  just  punishment  of  his  crime  in  the  embrace 
of  the  Old  Clo'  Man  who,  that  he  may  dance  the 
better,  presses  him  to  his  bosom,  in  such  a  fashion 
that  "the  victim  and  his  murderer  are  spitted  on 
one  sword  as  two  beetles  might  be  stuck  on  the 
same  pin." 

And  he  adds : 

"Is  not  this  a  queer  play,  with  its  mixture  of 
horror  and  laughter?  Have  not  the  ghost  of 
Banquo  and  the  shade  of  Hamlet  a  quite  peculiar 
relation  to  the  spectre  of  the  Old  Clo'  Man  and  is 
it  not  very  interesting  to  find  a  Shakespeare  at 
the  'Funambules'?     This  little  performance  en- 

23 


DEBURAU 

shrines  a  deep,  a  true,  a  highly  moral  mythos, 
which  has  no  need  to  be  embedded  in  Sanskrit,  to 
give  rise  to  a  cloud  of  commentaries,  to  be  imder- 
stood. 

"Pierrot  walking  the  street  in  his  white  blouse, 
his  baggy  white  trousers,  his  floured  face,  lost  in 
his  dreamS',  does  not  that  symbolize  for  us  the 
human  heart,  still  white  and  innocent,  but  wrimg 
by  cruel  longings  for  the  things  beyond  its  reach  ? 
The  sword  hilt  presenting  itself  to  his  grasp,  beck- 
oning him  with  its  treacherous  yellow  glitter,  is 
not  that  a  most  striking  symbol  of  the  power  of 
opportunity  over  the  already  weakened  and  dis- 
tracted mind?  The  ease  with  which  the  blade 
slips  through  the  victim's  body  denotes  how  easy 
crime  is,  and  how  one  single  action  may  cost  us  our 
immortal  soul.  When  he  first  seized  the  sword  Pier- 
rot meant  nothing  but  a  bit  of  mischief.  The  ghost 
of  the  old  man  rising  from  the  cellar  tells  us  that 
crime  will  out,  and  when  Pierrot  with  a  blow  from 
the  wooden  billet  knocks  the  poor  ghost  back  into 
its  depths  again,  does  not  the  author  most  aptly 
demonstrate  that  while  with  much  effort  we  may 
stave  off  our  punishment,  for  all  that  the  day  of 
reckoning  never  fails?    The  ghost  stands  for  re- 

24 


ACT  I 

morse,  how  vividly,  terribly,  enfigured !  The  little 
phrase  'Old  Clo'!'  which  can  throw  Pierrot  into 
such  an  agony  of  fear  is  as  great  a  stroke  of 
genius  as  Macbeth's  famous  'It  will  have  blood!' 
The  victim  was  uttering  his  cry  at  the  moment  of 
his  murder;  the  words  and  accent  are  stamped 
forever  in  the  murderer's  memory.  And  the  scene 
in  which  Pierrot  declares  his  love  while  the  ghost 
is  heard  muttering  under  the  floor,  and  every  now 
and  then  sticking  his  head  up,  does  not  that  show 
us — and  how  vividly! — that  nothing,  nothing  can 
still  the  remorse  lying  deep  down  in  our  hearts? 
Well  may  he  try  to  forget,  to  intoxicate  himself 
with  wine  or  with  passion,  the  spectre  is  always 
there.  Ever  at  his  side  he  feels  the  chill  breath  and 
hears  the  chuckling  whisper  '  Old  Clo' !  Old  Clo' !' ' ' 

So  soon  as  the  play  is  over  the  audience  having 
enthusiastically  called  for  Deburau  the  theatre 
empties  quickly.  One  lady,  rather  good-looking, 
takes  care  to  remain  the  last,  and  then  hides  her- 
self. A  moment  later  no  one  is  left  but  M.  Ber- 
trand,  Robillard,  the  Money-Taker,  the  Barker, 
and  this  lady. 


25 


THE  FIRST  ACT 

Robillard 
That's  a  go  if  you  like ! 

Bertrand 
What  an  audience!    Such  class! 

Robillard 
How  much  in  the  house? 

Bertrand 
She's  totting  it  up  now.    I  don't  know  when 
We've  done  better. 

Money-Taker 

I'm  just  through.     Two-seven- 
three-ten  .    .    . 

Bertrand 
Hurry  up !    Here  you  can  pass 
Me  over  the  transfers.    I'll  strike 
A  balance  with  them. 

27        • 


DEBURAU 

Money-Taker 
They're  somewhere  close 
On  twenty-eight  francs! 

Bertrand 

Call  it  twenty-eight. 

Money-Taker 
Seven-o-three  and  twenty-eight  makes  seven  hun- 
dred and  thirty-three. 

Bertrand 
Can't  be! 

.    Money-Taker 
It  is! 

Robillard 
Show  me! 

Money-Taker 
You'll  see  .    .    .  it's  as  I've  said. 

Bertrand 
We  only  hold  seven  hundred.    At  this  rate 
We'll  want  a  larger  theatre. 

28 


ACT  I 

Money-Taker 

And  three  seventy-five  for  oranges. 
And  two  for  gingerbread. 

Rohillard 
And  what  a  triumph  for  Deburau ! 
And  he  found  in  his  dressing-room   ...  do  you 

know 
When  he  came  ...  a  bunch  of  roses. 

Bertrand 
Oh,  these  society  ladies ! 

Rohillard 

Yes,  I  suppose  he's 
Got  one  of  them  after  him  again ! 
But  he  has  a  way. 

Rather  a  nice  way,  of  choking  them  off. 
He  always  carries  in  his  pocket 
A  little  picttu-e  of  his  wife.    And,  oh,  the  shock  it 
Is  when  he  takes  it  out,  just  when  he  has  made  his 
Greatest  impression.    And  then  he'll  say, 
"Isn't  she  pretty?"    And  they're  bound  to  agree, 
And  .    .    .  well,  that  is  the  end  of  that,  you  see! 
Have  you  ever  seen  her?    No,  she  has  never  been 
here. 

29 


DEBURAU 

Ah,  we  may  laugh ; 

But  he's  quite  right, 

Though  it  may  sound  queer. 

His  place  is  here  and  hers  is  at  home. 

That  suits  some. 

By  the  way,  who  was  that  here  to-night, 

A  striking  face  and  long  black  hair, 

Very  long  hair  and  very  black? 

He  sat  there. 

The  Barker 
What  is  his  name?    Oh,  yes,  I  know  it  .    .    . 
Victor — something   beginning   with    H.      That's 

right. 
He's  a  sort  of  a  Poet  .    .    . 
Victor  Huguet.    That's  it. 

Bertrand 

Hugo. 

The  Barker 
Huguet. 

Bertrand 
No,  no! 
Victor  Hugo ! 

30 


ACT  I 

The  Barker 
Well,  what's  the  odds,  Huguet  or  Hugo! 

Bertrand 
Here,  who's  that  hiding  at  the  back 
Of  that  box? 

He  goes  towards  a  lady  who  is  sitting  dis- 
creetly in  the  shadow  of  an  empty  box  and 
asks  most  politely — 

Pardon  me,  are  you  waiting  for  ...   ? 

The  Lady 

Monsieur  Deburau. 

Bertrand 
Oh,  of  course,  quite  so. 

He  comes  back  and  announces  in  a  whisper 
to  the  others  .    .    . 

Deburau ! 

Robillard 
Ah  ha!    She's  the  one  that  brought  the  roses. 

Bertrand 
And  what  about  his  dear  wife  now! 
A  pity  it's  to-night  she  chooses. 

31 


DEBURAU 

I'd  have  stood  you  all  a  supper.    But  how 
Could  we  do  without  Deburau? 

Rohillard 
Oh,  no! 

Bertrand 
A  nuisance  we've  lost  him! 
We'd   have   been   seven  ,    .    .  eight  .    .    .  nine 
.    .    .  ten  .    .    . 

The  Barker 
(to  the  Money-Taker,  behind  his  hand) 

Watch  him  adding  up  what  it's  not  going  to  cost 
him! 

Bertrand 
Ah,  well,  some  other  time,  when  .    .    . 

Justine  has  come  through  the  little  pass 
door  to  join  the  group. 

Justine 
What  a  performance !   /  never  had 
Such  a  success! 
How  much  in  the  house? 

32 


ACT  I 

Bertrand 

Oh,  not  so  bad. 

Justine 
How  much? 

Bertrand 
Well,  guess 

Justine 
Six  hundred? 

Bertrand 
More! 

No! 

Bertrand 
Nearly  eight! 

Laurent,  following  close,  now  joins  them. 

Justine 
Eight  hundred. 

Laurent 
Eight  hundred  what? 
a  33 


DEBURAU 

Justine  , 

Francs  in  the  house! 

Laplace  and  Clara  arrive. 

Laplace 
How  much? 

Laurent 
Guess. 

Bertrand 
Over  eight  hundred  francs! 

Clara 
Monsieur  Bertrand,  for  eight  hundred  francs 
I  think  you  give  thanks 

By  taking  your  talented  company  out  on  a  spree. 
We  await 
A  carouse ! 

Bertrand 
I  would  .    .    .  but  Deburau  can't  come. 

Justine 
Why  on  earth  can't  he? 

Rohillard 

Look  and  see. 
34 


ACT  I 

Clara 
What? 

Rohillard 
Sh! 

Clara 
Where? 

Robillard 
There. 

Justine 
For  our  model  husband!    I'm  struck  dumb! 

Clara 
I  don't  think  much  of  her,  I  declare. 

Robillard 
Why  not? 

Clara 
Forty-five  if  she's  a  day ! 

Robillard 
You  may  be  right. 

Justine 
It  must  be  dreadful  to  be  forty-five. 

35 


DEBURAU 

Robillard 
I  doubt,  my  dear,  if  at  the  pace  you  live 
You'll  be  much  troubled  in  that  way. 
Good-night. 

Clara 
Not  waiting  for  your  dear  Deburau? 

Robillard 

No.     Good-night. 

Madame  RSbard  arrives,   buttonholing 
Robillard  on  his  way  out. 

Madame  Rebard 
Has  he  gone? 

Robillard 
Who? 

Madame  Rebard 
Deburau. 

Robillard 
Not  yet.     Good-night,  all. 

Everyone 
Good-night. 

Robillard  departs. 
36 


ACT  I 

Madame  Retard 
Well,  what  sort  of  a  house? 

Bertrand 
Nearly  nine  hundred  francs. 

Madame  Retard 


Well! 


Bertrand 
I've  always  feared  I'd  find  this  house  too  small. 
They  were  standing  at  the  back  in  ranks ! 

Clement  passes  at  the  tack  on  his  way 
out. 

Clement 
Good-night  all. 

Bertrand 
Clement ! 

Clement 
Guvnor! 

Bertrand 

Come  here. 
You  and  I  have  a  bone  to  pick. 

37 


DEBURAU 

Clement 


What  about? 


Bertrand 
You  know  what  about. 
Now  kindly  hear 
What  I've  got  to  say. 
Do  you  mean,  or  don't  you  mean,  to  stick 
To  your  contract  ? 

Clement 
Guvnor ! 

Bertrand 

This  isn't  the  way 
To  do  it.    To-day  is  Friday  if  I'm  not  mistaken 
And  your  contract  says — am  I  far  out? — 
That  Thursday's  your  day  of  the  week  to  get 

drunk  on. 
Now,  how  many  glasses  have  you  taken 
To-day?    Thank  you,  don't  trouble  to  put  it  in 

words,  I  can  tell 
Pretty  accurately — say  to  within   fourteen — by 

the  ...    ! 
What  the  devil's  to  be  done  with  you?   Aren't  you 
ashamed? 

38 


ACT  I 

Clement 
Yes,  I  am. 

Not  of  drinking  though 
And  you  don't  care  a  damn 
If  I'm  sober  or  not,  you  know. 
You  don't,  when  it  doesn't  show. 
Well,  I  may  be  a  sot, 

But  am  I  a  child  to  be  hauled  up  and  blamed? 
And  this  lying  about  it  ...    ! 

Bertrand 
Then  why  do  you  drink? 

Clement 
Because  I  like  drinking;  why  else  do  you  think? 
Guvnor,  you  want  me  to  stick  to  my  contract. 

That's  fair. 
Well,  here's  a  fair  offer.    Make  the  one  day  into 

two,  and  I  will.    There! 

Bertrand 
Two? 

Clement 
Monday  and  Thursday.     'Twon't  hurt  you 
to  give  me  Monday, 
39 


DEBURAU 

Monday  the  house  is  never  full. 

So  why  shouldn't  I  be.    'Scuse  my  vulgarity. 

It'll  pay  you.    Besides,  it's  an  act  of  charity. 

My  self-respect  sort  of  goes  on  strike 

When  I'm  tied  down  by  rule 

To  make  a  beast  of  myself  upon  one  day. 

That's  an  offence  against  human  dignity. 

Ask  any  other  man  how  he  would  like 

To  be  made  such  a  slave  of!    He  d  not  give  a  fig, 

not  he, 
For  contracts.    My  shame?    Yes,  I'm  lost  in  it, 

sunk  in  it. 
If  you've  but  one  day  to  drink  in  you're  bound  to 

get  drunk  in  it. 
You  give  me  two  days.    Let's  try  how  that  plan 
Works.    If  I'm  drunk,  well,  at  least  I'll  be  drunk 

like  a  man. 
Is  it  a  bargain? 

Bertrand 
Two  days?    Next  time  I  shall  give 
you  the  lot. 


The  chuck? 


Clement 
40 


ACT  I 

Bertrand 
You  deserve  it.    Do  you,  or  not? 

Clement 
Oh,  if  you  chucked  me  I  shouldn't  blame  you. 
Guvnor  .    .    .  here's  something  on  which  you  can 

sleep. 
If  I  weren't  such  a  damned  good  actor  and  you 

didn't  get  me  so  cheap 
I'd  have  walked  off  long  since  and  not  stayed  here 

to  shame  you. 

Bertrand 
Quite  so  .    .    .  quite  so.   .    .    . 
Well  ...  we  all  have  our  failings,  I  know! 
To-day's  Friday.     Saturday,  Sunday,   Monday? 

Monday  will  be  all  right. 
But  not  a  day  more,  remember! 

Clement 
Word  of  honour.     Good-night. 
Clement  goes  out. 

Justine 
Clara,  who  was  that  \ 

Woman  who  sat 

41 


DEBURAU 

At  the  back  of  that  box  .    .   . 
You  couldn't  see  much  but  the  pair  of  black  eyes 
of  her  .    .    .   ? 

Clara 
Sh !  There  she  is  waiting  for  .    .    . 

Jiistine 

No,  no,  not  she! 
Very  dark  this  one  was,  very  thin.    And  two  black 

locks 
Made  her  face  look  even  thinner. 
Diamonds  on ! 

Very  solemn,  very  afiEected,  that  was  the  size  of  her. 
No,  she's  gone. 

Clara 
I  don't  think  I  know  her. 

Laurent 

It  was  Marie  Duplessis. 

Clara 


Oh! 


No! 


Justine 
42 


ACT  I 

Laurent 
Yes,  indeed. 

Justine 
Well,  as  I'm  a  sinner! 

Clara 
There  you  are !    It's  a  weed 
Of  a  woman  like  that  men  go  mad  about. 
Not  even  pretty ! 

Laurent 
Not  a  bit  .    .    .  what  you'd  call  pretty. 
Clara 

Now,  don't  be  clever. 
How  old  is  she? 

Laurent 
Eighteen. 

Justine 

Oh,  did  you  ever! 
Innocent ! ! 

Laurent 
Well,  a  brother  of  mine  who's  a  doctor  helped  bring 

her  into  the  world.     He  ought  to  know 
And  he  says  so. 

43 


DEBURAU 

Clara 
Consumptive,  isn't  she? 

Laurent 

Yes,  she  went 
That  way  early. 

Justine 
Oh,  what  a  pity ! 

Clara 

Yes,  it's  sad  about 
That. 

Laurent 
She's  like  a  candle  flame, 
A  rough  breath  will  have  it  out.    Can  you  blame 
Men  if  they  bring  lanterns  of  gold 
With  such  a  candle  to  hold? 

Madame  Retard 
Sh!    Deburau  .    .    .    ! 

Clara 
Oh,  give  him  an  entrance! 

Bertrand 

How? 
44 


ACT  I 

Madame  Retard 
I've  an  idea.    Let's  all  stand  in  a  row  and  bow. 

Laurent 
Stand  in  a  row? 

Laplace 

And  bow? 

Laurent 

Well,  really,  I  say, 
If  you  all  of  you  feel 
Such  rapt  admiration  I  suggest  that  you  kneel. 

Deburau  comes  from  the  stage.  He  carries 
the  bunch  of  roses  which  he  leaves  on  a  bench. 
He  listens  for  a  moment,  then  joins  the  others. 
Laurent,  not  observing  him,  goes  on  .    .    . 

Laurent 
I  admire  the  man,  too. 
But,  surely  we'll  do 

Our  dear  Gaspard  a  better  turn  in  the  end 
If  we're  cooler  and  critical — 

Deburau 

Quite  right,  quite  right. 
Always  be  chary  of  praising  your  friends.    Good- 
night. 

45 


DEBURAU 

Justine 
Oh  .  .   .  Good-night. 

Laurent 

So  long! 

Deburau 

Till  to-morrow. 

Madame  Ribard 

You're  going? 
Deburau 

Why— Yes. 

Bertrand 
But  she's  waiting. 

Deburau 
She? 

Clara 
There. 

Deburau 

Where? 

Clara 

There;  see  the  tip 
of  her  dress. 
46 


ACT  I 

Deburau 

This  isn't 

a  joke? 

Bertrand 

No,   she  asked 

for  you 

came  and  asked  met 

Deburau 

What  a  nuisance ! 

Bertrand 
She  brought  you  the  roses,  you'll  see. 

Deburau 
Well,  I  must  say  thank  you,  I  suppose. 
Don't  leave  us  alone  now,  whatever  you  do. 

He  goes  rather  unwillingly  towards  the 
hidden  lady. 
Madame,  are  you  waiting  .    .    .    ? 

The  Lady 
Yes,  I  was  waiting  .    .    . 

Deburau 

To  see  me? 
47 


DEBURAU 

The  Lady 

To  see  you. 
Or  rather  to  hear  you  speak. 
Remember,  nobody  hears  you  speak. 
It's  uncanny  to  have  so  much  said 
To  one  in  silence.    So,  if  I  saw  you  close, 
I  thought — forgive  me — it  might  break  the  spell. 
Or  if  you  wove  another  one  .    .    .  well  .    .    .    ? 

Deburau 
How  good  of  you !    I  know  it  must  seem  a  freak 
Of  nature  to  be  able  to  hold  one's  tongue. 
D'you  want  to  know  how  I  do  it?    It's  simple: 
Go  and  sit  among 
Your  friends  and  follow  the  thread 
Of  their  talk.    If  you  can  get  them  to  talk  about  you 
So  much  the  better.    The  whole  thing  lies 
In  the  art  of  listening.    For  example  .    .    . 

The  Lady 
Forgive  me — ^would  you  turn  your  eyes 
To  the  right  a  little.    Your  friends  here 
Are  experts  in  that  art,  I  fear. 

Deburau 

That's  true. 

48 


ACT  I 

The  Lady 
So  suppose  we  went  .    .    . 

Dehurau 
Where? 

The  Lady 

Anywhere 
A  little  less  crowded  .    .    .  and  empty. 

Dehurau 

Together? 
The  Lady 
My  carriage  is  in  the  square. 

Dehurau 
Quite  so  .    .    . 

He  begins  to  feel  in  his  pockets. 

The  Lady 
What's  the  matter? 

Dehurau 
I  was  wondering  whether  .    . 

The  Lady 

Your  watch?    It's  not  late. 
4  49 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
No,  not  my  watch. 
A  miniature 

That  I  always  carry,  I  wasn't  sure 
I  hadn't  lost  it,  I  wouldn't  for  worlds.    Here  we 
are! 

He  has  fished  a  little  miniature  out  of 
his  pocket. 

The  Lady 

What  is  it? 

Deburau 
As  a  painting,  of  course,  not  much  of  a  catch ! 
My  wife!  Pretty,  isn't  she? 

The  Lady 

Very. 

Deburau 
Most  women  think  so.    I  suppose  the  dress 
Looks  a  little  old-fashioned.    I  wish  she  were  here. 
But  if  one  day  you'd  care  to  pay  her  a  visit  .    .    . 
Not  now,  of  course.    You're  in  a  hurry  .    .    . 
I'd  so  like  you  to  meet  her.    May  I  tell  her  we  met  ? 
May  I  give  her  these  roses  from  you? 

50 


ACT  I 

The  Lady 

What  roses? 

Deburau 

These  that 

you  sent  me. 

The  Lady 

That /sent! 

Deburau 

My  manager  thought  so,  not  I. 

I  suppose 

he's 

Mistaken. 

The  Lady  (icily) 
We  all  make  mistakes.    I  regret 
I've  detained  you. 

Deburau  (a  little  wryly) 
I  fear 
That  I'm  more  satisfactory  seen  and  not  heard. 

The  Lady 
No,  indeed,  you're  quite  magnificent! 
How  this  sort  of  thing  must  try  your  patience. 
Good-night.    Give  your  wife  my  congrattdations. 

The  Lady  departs  so  quickly  that  he  has 
no  time  even  to  see  her  to  the  door 
51 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Thank  you ,  I  will .    ( Then  to  himself) :  How  absurd, 

how  absurd! 
Another  time 
I  swear  that  I'll  do  it  in  pantomime! 

Justine 
Oh,  she's  off! 

Bertrand 
What,  has  she  gone? 

Deburau  {to  himself) 
But  she  wasn't  .    .    . 

Clara 
And  you've  let  her  go! 

Deburau 

Well  .    .    .  she  wasn't  the  one  .    .    . 

And  there  always  is  one  .    .    .  just  one,  you  know. 

Robillard  is  heard  calling  as  he  returns. 

Robillard 
Deburau  .    .    .  Deburau! 

Deburau 

What's  that? 
52 
I 


ACT  I 

RobiUard 

Deburau! 

Deburau 
HuUo! 

RobiUard  arrives  much  out  of  breath,  and 
brandishing  a  newspaper. 

Robillard 
Have  you  heard? 

Deburau 
Not  a  word. 

Robillard 

You're  in  luck,  you  are ! 

Look  what's  in  the  Journal  des  Debats. 

Deburau  {seeing  the  heading) 
Deburau ! 

Robillard 
Signed  'Jules  Janin.' 

Bertrand 

I  say! 

Justine 
Let's  see. 

53 


DEBURAU 

Bertrand 
My  boy,  this  is  fame. 

Laurent 
Is  it  a  slating?    That's  a  shame. 

Rohillard 
A  slating ! 

Dehurau 
Why  should  he  slate  me,  I'd  like  to  know? 

Rohillard  {to  Laurent) 
You  need  not  worry  anyway, 
Your  name's  not  in  it, 

{To  Laplace) 
Nor  yours;  nor  mine. 

Justine 
Gaspard,  read  it  aloud  this  minute! 

Laurent 
Don't  ask  him  that. 

Dehurau 
No,  reading  aloud 
Isn't  my  line. 

54 


ACT  I 

I'm  not  even  proud 

Of  my  powers  of  speech.    Now,  if  I  could  give  it 

you  in  dumb  show ! 
You  read  it,  friend  Laurent;  you'll  make  it  sound 

fine. 

Laurent 
With  pleasure. 

Dehurau 
Now  I  call 
That  kind.     The  floor  is  yours. 


Bertrand 


Attention  all. 


Laurent 
"Deburau  is  the  greatest  actor  of  our  time;  for 
he  has  revolutionized  the  actor's  art,  given  us  a 
new  Pierrot  and  another  sort  of  pantomime. 
Without  a  word  spoken,  with  never  a  violent  ac- 
tion, with  hardly  a  change  of  expression,  yet  with 
nothing  left  unfelt  or  unsaid,  with  every  meaning 
and  emotion  flashed  clear  upon  our  minds — here 
is  an  actor  who  could  play  you  all  the  parts  in 
MoMre  without  ever  opening  his  mouth.     How 

55 


DEBURAU 

is  it  done  ?  Go  to  the  Follies  Theatre  and  discover 
if  you  can. 

"Whatever  else  you  have  to  do,  go  to  the  Follies 
Theatre.  If  you  have  nothing  else  to  do,  go  to  the 
Follies  and  see  Deburau. 

"And  you  need  go  to  no  other.  For  in  him  you 
find  a  thousand  actors  in  one.  A  thousand  actors 
with  their  thousand  countenances,  their  thousand 
twists  and  turns,  flashes  of  merriment,  dashes  of 
tears,  the  power  of  their  passion  as  it  ebbs  and 
flows.  The  sunshine  of  this  art  puts  every  other 
theatre  in  the  shade.  These  thousand  actors  have 
but  one  name — Deburau." 

There's  a  lot  more  like  this. 

The  listening  actors — all  but  Robillard — 
look  very  blank  indeed. 


Well! 


Laplace 
Justine 


Wonderful ! 


Laurent 
What  a  notice ! 
56 


ACT  I 

Bertrand 

That  ought  to  fill 
The  house  to-morrow. 

The  Barker  (to  himself) 
Look  at  them  swallowing  the  pill ! 

Clara 
Jules  Janin,  indeed ! 

Robillard 
Well,  he  knows  what  he's  talking  about. 

Madame  Retard 
He  does. 

Bertrand 
We  shall  sell  out  to-morrow,  we  shall 
certainly  sell  out. 

Robillard 
(to  Deburau  who  stands  distressed  a  little  apart) 
What's  the  matter? 

Deburau 

Oh,  can't  you  feel  it  in  the  air 
How  they  hate  it? 

57 


DEBURAU 

Robillard 
Let  them ! 

Deburau 
But  how  they  hate  me !    Look 
at  them  there. 
I'll  just  explain  that  I  never  intended  .    .    . 
If  I'd  thought  for  a  moment  there  was  that  in 

it  .    .    . 
I  was  so  thankful  when  it  ended. 

(He  turns  to  the  others.) 

I  really  do  give  you  my  word 

It  was  the  first  I'd  heard  of  that. 

And  honestly  .    .    .  well,  it's  a  little  absurd! 

Laplace 
1  don't  find  it  so  for  a  minute. 

Deburau 
No,  not  of  the  theatre,  of  all  of  us, 
But  absurd,  written  only  of  me. 

Robillard 
I  don't  agree. 

58 


ACT  I 

Bertrand 
I  don't  agree ! 

Laurent 
Tell  me  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Yes? 

Laurent 
Do  you  know  him? 

Deburau 

Who? 

LapUice 
This — what's  his  name — who  makes  such  a  fuss 
Of  your  acting,  is  he  a  friend  of  yours  ? 

Deburau 
Oh,  I  see  what  you're  getting  at ! 
A  personal  friend  of  mine  ?    Of  course. 

Laurent 
Then,  that  explains  it ! 

Laplace 
Excuses  it,  too ! 
59 


DEBURAU 

Robillard  (to  Deburau) 
You  know  Janin? 

Deburau 

Never  met  the  man. 

Robillard 
Then  what  the  devil ? 

Deburau 

No,  no,  not 
Let  them  go  on  thinking  so. 
Then  perhaps  they'll  hate  me  less; 
A  little  less. 
Did  you  see  their  faces  while  he  was  reading  it  ? 

Robillard 
Jealousy!    What's  the  use  of  heeding  it? 
Think  what  a  notice  from  Janin  means? 

Deburau 
Scenes, 
Like  this ! 

Robillard 

Well,  my  friend,  that's  the  price  of  success. 
60 


ACT  I 

Dehurau 
Then  I  can't  pay  it.    Does  that  sound  absurd? 
But  I  can't  endure  being  looked  at  so. 
It  makes  me  too  wretched,  indeed  it  does. 
All  I  want,  you  know. 
Is  to  be  met  with  a  smile,  a  kind  word, 
And  to  feel  I  give  the  public  pleasure. 
That's  how  I  measure 

My  success.    And  the  rest  I'm  content  to  lose. 
I  don't  hunger  to  be  admired. 
I  could  never  be  a  hero. 
I'm  just  a  poor  Pierrot, 
Rather  sad,  and  sometimes  so  tired. 
I  must  make  up  my  mind  to  be  jolly  at  night, 
As  I  make  up  my  face,  black  and  white. 

Madame  RSbard  draws  him  aside. 
Madame  Rebard 


Gaspard. 


Yes? 


Dehurau 

Madame  Rebard 

I'm  off,  but  tell  me,  will  you- 
6i 


DEBURAU 

When  they  are  out  of  hearing  .    .    . 
Come  out  to  supper,  just  us  two. 

Deburau 
Us  two? 

Madame  RSbard 
Don't  you  want  to? 

Deburau 
I'd  like  it  of  all  things,  but  let  me  explain  .    .    , 

He  has  begun  to  feel  in  his  pockets. 

Madame  Rebard 
I  knew  it !    Out  comes  his  wife's  picture  again ! 
Good-night. 

Deburau 
But  what  did  you ? 

Madame  Rebard 

Nothing,  nothing  at  all. 

Deburau 

Nor  did  I! 
So  don't  be  offended.    And  thanks  for  the  roses. 

62 


ACT  I 

Madame  Rebard 
What  roses? 

Dehurau 
Didn't  you  send  them? 

Madame  Rebard 

Not  I. 

Good-night. 

Madame  Rebard  goes. 

Deburau 
Now,  why, 
When  I  show  them  these  do  they  all  cock  their 
noses? 

Bertrand  {in  an  important  voice) 
Deburau ! 

Deburau 
Monsieur  Bertrand! 

Bertrand 

I  feel 
That  I  cannot  allow  this  occasion  to  pass. 
An   occasion   so — well,   let  me  call  it   such  an 
occasion, 

63 


DEBURAU 

When  the  critics  and  pubHc,  a  critic  of  real 
Distinction,  a  public  to-night  of  the  highest  class 
Have  given  you  here  such  a  splendid  ovation. 
Now  comes  my  part 
Though  I  seek  no  applause  from  the  pit  and  the 

gallery. 
Deburau, 

— Don't  say  no! — 
As  a  tribute  to  your  art 
I  shall  raise  your  salary. 

There  is  general,  if  concealed,  amazement. 

Laplace 
Did  you  hear  what  he  said? 

The  Barker 
One  full  house  has  turned  his  head! 

Laurent 
Are  you  joking? 

Bertrand 
Not  at  all. 

Laurent 

What  next! 
64 


ACT  I 

Laplace 

Nothing,  this  is 
about  the  limit! 
First  his  friends  puff  him  and  then  .    .    .  why, 
it's  blackmail,  damn  it. 

Deburau  (to  Robillard) 
Now  they'll  really  love  me ! 

Robillard 
But,  if  he  chooses  to  do  it ! 

Deburau 
Before  them  all ;  the  tactless  brute ! 

Bertrand 
Thirty  francs  is  your  present  pay. 
Not  so  bad,  I  must  say ! 
Well,  no  one  shall  call  me  unduly  thrifty, 
For  the  future  it  shall  be  thirty-two  francs  fifty. 

Deburau 
Thanks,  my  dear  chief. 

The  Barker 
The  guv'nor's  been  drinking! 
»  65 


DEBURAU 

Bertrand 
And  to-morrow  we'll  have  a  poster  printed. 

The  Barker 
Twenty  years  since  we  had  that  done ! 

Clara 
Did  you  ever? 

Laurent 
What  madness! 

Justine 

What  fun! 

Bertrand 
It's  a  bit  of  an  outlay,  that's  true, 
But  our  dear  little  theatre  mustn't  be  stinted. 

Robillard  {to  Deburau) 
Now  what  are  you  thinking  ? 

Deburau 
I'm  marvelling  at  the  power  of  the  press! 

Robillard 
Well,  don't  complain. 
It  doesn't  hurt  you. 

66 


ACT  I 

Deburau 
Oh,  doesn't  it?    Thank  you,  wait  and  see! 
If  he  puts  up  my  salary  when  I  make  a  success. 
When  I  next  make  a  failure  he'll  feel  quite  free 
To  cut  it  down  again. 

During  these  last  lines  Clara  has  gone 
out  with  Bertrand  while  Laurent  and 
Laplace  take  Justine  with  them.  When 
only  Deburau,  Robillard,  and  the  Barker 
and  the  Money-Taker  are  left  a  Journalist 
appears  and  asks  the  Barker  a  question. 

The  Barker 
Monsieur   Deburau,   yes  .    .    .  that's  him  over 
there. 

Journalist 
May  I  venture ? 

The  Barker 
To  speak  to  him.    Quite  all  right. 
He  won't  bite! 

Journalist 

Monsieur  Deburau! 

67 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
What  can  I  do  for  you? 

Journalist 

I  am  a  journalist. 
My  editor  hopes  you'll  be  pleased  to  assist 
Me  to  place  before  the  public  an  account 
Of  your  early  days  ...  of  your  efforts  to  mount 
The  ladder  of  fame  that  you're  now  at  the  top 

of  .    .    . 
Of  your  first  appearance  .    .    .    ? 

Deburau 

On  the  stage, 
Or  in  the  world?    Well,  well. 
The  two  occasions  weren't  so  far  apart! 

Journalist 
Really  ?    What  stories  you  must  have  to  tell ! 
Pardon  me  .    .    . 

He  makes  a  note. 

"Trained  in  art 
From  his  very  cradle."    That  will  look  well 
At  the  head  of  my  page. 

68 


ACT  I 

Please  go  on.    I  must  squeeze  out  the  last  drop  of 
This  great  opportunity.    You  won't  mind? 

Deburau 
Not  a  bit,  if  you  find 
It  amusing. — I  never  did ! 
Trained  in  art  from  my  cradle,  did  you  say? 
Well,  I  hadn't  a  cradle !    But,  anyway. 
If  you  bid 

Me  recall  these  things,  here  goes  .    .    . 
Though  I've  tried  hard  enough  to  forget  them, 

God  knows ! 
I  was  bom  in  Rumania,  at  Constanza. 
My  father  was  a  tight-rope  dancer 
Which  had  been  his  father's  bent 
And  his  grandfather's,  so  I've  heard. 
He  ran  a  circus,  owned  a  little  tent. 
My  mother  took  the  money  at  the  door. 
He  was  called  the  "Equihbrian  Wonder." 

Journalist 

Very  apt,  upon  my  word ! 
Brothers  and  sisters? 

Deburau 
1  had  four. 
69 


DEBURAU 

Journalist 
I'm  making  notes;  please  go  ahead. 

Deburau 
Five  of  us  then,  two  girls  and  three  boys 
And  father  made  six, 
And  mother  seven,  and  the  pony  eight. 
I  must  count  him,  for  he  did  his  tricks, 
Though  his  best  trick  was  to  pull  us  from  town  to 

town. 
There  are  greater  joys. 
Believe  me,  than  tramping  early  and  late 
German  roads,  Russian  roads,  Polish  roads  .    .    . ! 
All  roads,  you  know,  are  endless. 
And  we  were  poor.    Our  loads 
In  Hfe  weren't  light. 

A  hungry  day  came  after  an  empty  tent  at  night. 
Still,  I  think  we  never  felt  quite  friendless. 
But  to  return!    My  eldest  brother  .    .    .  oh,  he 

looked  down 
On  the  rest  of  us.    Well  he  might. 
From  the  high  rope  he  did  his  tricks  on. 
His  flying  leap  was  a  great  affair. 
Ladies  used  to  scream  with  fright. 
It  was  fine  to  see  him  fix  on 

70 


ACT  I 

The  spot  that  he  meant  to  jump  to. 

Then,  like  a  swallow,  he'd  sweep  through  the  air 

Round  the  trapeze  and  into  the  net. 

Why,  I  could  always  feel  my  heart  thump,  too. 

It  means  something,  you  know,  to  face  death  daily, 

And  to  face  it  gaily. 

With  a  smile  and  a  bow. 

So  that's  how  I  like  to  remember  him  now, 

Crouched  on  his  tight  rope,  supple  and  strong. 

For  later  in  Ufe  he  went  very  wrong. 

But  you'U  leave  that  out,  won't  you?    It's  wiped 

off  the  slate, 
Although  he  went  crooked,   he  always  jumped 

straight. 
My  second  brother  was  a  tumbler. 
That's  a  role  that's  rather  humbler. 
But  an  attractive  little  rascal. 
Not  a  joint  in  his  body  he  couldn't  twist  anyway. 
He  could  dance  on  his  hands,  as  I  dance  on  my  toes, 
I  believe  if  he'd  tried  he  could  have  danced  on  his 

nose. 
Such  a  genius!     Such  a  good-for-nothing!     All 

thrown  away! 
If  he'd  but  worked  instead  of  shirking  his  task  all 
The  time,  if  he'd  but  given  his  talents  their  scope, 

71 


DEBURAU 

He  could  have  made  himself  the  finest  human 
serpent  in  Europe. 

Journalist 
Excellent,  just  what  I  wanted  to  know! 

Deburau 
My  eldest  sister  was  very  pretty. 

{To  RohUlard.) 

You  remember  her,  don't  you?    She  has  come 
Utterly  to  grief;  but  it  seems  as  if  some 
Women  were  boimd  to.    Such  a  pity ! 
Will  you  please  leave  that  out  also? 
The  youngest  was  the  best  thing  in  the  show. 
She  danced  on  the  slack  wire  really  divinely, 
And  has  married  quite  well. 
I  was  the  fool  of  the  family ! 
Whatever  went  wrong  it  was  always  me. 
Whoever  kept  balanced,  I  always  fell. 
Oh,  and  I  have  been  beaten  finely 
For  nearly — and  not  quite — breaking  my  neck. 
I  believe  I  never  brought  off  a  trick. 
"Clumsy  lout,  clumsy  lout,  clumsy  lout!" 
And  many's  the  dinner  I've  gone  without 

72 


ACT  I 

That  practice  on  an  empty  tummy 

(She'd   bring   me   scraps   afterwards,    my   poor 
mummy) 

Might  make  me  more  imperfect  still. 

I  used  to  wear  pink  tights. 

Well  .    .    .  once  they'd  been  pink. 

But  time,  that  provides 

All   things,    had   given   some   wonderful   shades 
besides. 

And  they'd  been  so  darned  and  put  to  rights 

With  bits  of  yellow  and  green  and  grey 

That  it  was  precious  hard  to  say 

Which  were  tights  and  which  was  mending. 

But  the  meanest  of  us  has  his  rights ; 

And  those  were  my  very  own  pink  tights. 

I  have  them  still  somewhere  I  think. 

We  tramped,   we  tramped  on  those  roads  un- 
ending 

From  town  to  town. 

Laying  us  down 

Under  a  hedge,  or  in  some  shed. 

Cold,  oh  cold! 

I  wonder  we  didn't  wake  up  dead 

One  of  those  fine  mornings.    Still,  we  were  free. 

The  world  was  our  tight  rope.    I  sometimes  see 

73 


DEBURAU 

In  my  dreams  the  whole  world  tented  beneath  the 

fold 
Of  the  skies.    And  that  old  rope  slung  so  high  in 

air 
That  it  stretches  over  sea  and  land.  ,  And,  one  by 

one, 
Their  figures  black  against  a  shining  sun, 
My  father,  my  brothers,  my  sisters,  all  silently, 

solemnly  passing  there. 
That's  all  there  is  to  tell  you,  every  particle. 

Journalist 
My  dear  sir,  it  will  make  a  first  rate  article. 

Deburau 
Good- night. 

Journalist 
Good-night. 
And  thank  you. 

Robillard 
Good-night. 

The  Journalist,  very  well  satisfied,  departs. 

Robillard 
They  have  all  gone. 

74 


ACT  I 

Deburau 
Well,  come. 

Robillard 
Dear  fellow,  why  do  you  look  so  glum? 

Deburau 
Do  I? 

Robillard 
Smile. 

Deburau 
At  what? 

Robillard 
After  to-night ! 

Deburau 
Well,  there's  a  smile  for  you.    Is  that  all  right? 

Robillard 

Quite  right. 

Now  a  grateful  one  for  your  own  good  luck  .    .    . 

One  for  the  future. 

Deburau 
Ah,  the  many  smiles 
My  past  still  owes  me  .    .    .  and  the  debt's  not 
paid  .    .    . 

75 


DEBURAU 

For  those  first  fifteen  years 

Of  such  childish  trials. 

But  they  burn  deep  when  one  salts  the  wounds 
with  tears. 

For  the  next  fifteen,  climbing  out  of  the  ruck 

Of  neglect  and  misfortune  .  .  .  !  Ah,  I  mean 
that  my  boy  ' 

Shall  have  his  own  childhood's  joy  and  my  child- 
hood's joy 

Both.    Such  a  fine  little  fellow,  solemn  and  staid ! 

He  has  my  eyes  and  my  voice 

And  already  my  way  with  his  hand, 

You  know! 

Swinging  the  left  hand  .    .    .so! 

Rohillard 
You,  running  into  a  second  edition. 

Dehurau 

Yes  but  I've  planned 

Many  revisions  of  it  for  him. 

It's  not  such  an  unselfish  vision. 

For  by  filling  his  happiness  to  the  brim 

The  overflow  will  be  mine,  you  see. 

And  he  .    .    . 

76 


ACT  I 

A  lady  has  come  in  and  asked  a  question 
of  the  Barker,  who  nods  to  her  to  wait  and 
then  conies  down  to  Deburau. 


The  Barker 


Deburau ! 


What? 


Deburau 

The  Barker 
A  lady. 

Deburau 
Oh! 

The  Barker 
She's  the  right  sort  and  she  wants  a  word. 

Deburau 
Another!    This  really  is  too  absiird. 

Robillard 
I'm  ofif. 

Deburau 
Confound  you,  no! 
77 


DEBURAU 

The  Barker 
She's  a  beauty ! 

Deburau 
What  do  I  care? 

Rohillard 
But  she's  waiting  there. 

Deburau 
Let  her  wait ! 

The  Barker 
Take  a  look. 

Deburau  looks  and  sees — not  exactly  a  lady 
perhaps,  but  a  girl,  very  young,  grave  but 
smiling.  She  is  pale,  she  has  great  deep  eyes. 
She  is  dressed  wholly  in  black.  On  her  neck, 
in  her  ears,  on  her  wrists  there  is  the  glitter 
of  diamonds.  Deburau  is  struck  dumb  as 
he  looks  at  her.    She  is  so  charming. 

Oh,  but  she's — {he  pauses) 

Robillard 

Yes,  what's  the  word  ? 
78 


ACT  I 

Deburau 

Entrancing. 
Robillard 
I  should  fetch  out  that  picture  from  your  pocket- 
book. 

And  as  a  matter  offactjrom  sheer  instinct 
he  has.  He  looks  at  it  for  a  moment,  and 
then  again  at  the  lady.  Then  he  holds  out 
his  hand  in  a  good-night  to  Robillard. 

Deburau 
What  picture?    Oh!    You  did  say 
You  weren't  going  my  way? 

Robillard 
I  did  say  so.    Good-night. 

Robillard  bows  slightly  to  the  unknown 
lady  and  departs.  Deburau  goes  towards 
her. 

Deburau 
So  good  of  you  to  .    .    . 

She  never  speaks,  but  still  smiles  at  him 
with  that  slow,  entrancing  smile.    He  offers 
79 


DEBURAU 

her  his  arm  which  she  takes  and  they  are 
going  when  .    .    . 

The  Door-Keeper  {holding  out  the  flowers) 
Your  roses ! 

Dehurau  {taking  them,  says  to  the  lady) 

Your  roses.    Am  I  right? 

The  lady,  still  smiling,  shakes  her  head. 

Deburau 

No?    Well,  I  shan't  have  to  be  chancing 
Any  more  guesses.    But,  who  the  deuce  .    .    .    ? 
People  will  do  these  things,  one  can't  prevent  'em. 
Here,  now,  they  might  be  of  some  use  .    .    . 

And  with  careless  generosity  he  holds  them 
out  to  the  little  money-taker. 

The  Money-Taker 
Tome? 

Deburau 
To  you! 

He  presents  them  to  her  with  a  bow.    Then 
he  and  the  lady  depart. 
80 


ACT  I 

The  Money-Taker 
Oh,  Amed6e,  he  ...    ! 

The  Barker 
Boo  hoo ! 
I  told  you  he'd  never  guess  you  sent  'em. 


8l 


THE  SECOND  ACT 


83 


THE  SECOND  ACT 

The  curtain  rises  on  Marie  Duplessis' 
bovdoir.  She  is  at  her  piano,  playing  idly, 
while  Deburau  talks  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream. 

Deburau 
There  it  is,  there  it  is,  and  it  has  always  been  so. 
Why  did  I  never  see  it  before? 

Marie 
Darling,  what  are  you  muttering  about? 

Deburau 
I'm  telling  myself  how  happy  I  am. 

Marie 

(with  a  little  smile.) 

Telling  yourself  .    .    .  how  happy  you  are! 


Yes. 


Deburau 
85 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
Well,  that's  good. 

Deburau 
A  prisoner,  you  know, 
Set  free  on  a  sudden  can  only  shout 
That  he's  free  .    .    .  and  find  nothing  else  to  say. 
So  now  I  cram 

All  the  emotions  that  possess  me 
Into  "I'm  happy. ' '   At  last  I 've  discovered 
Why  one  fine  day. 
Long  ago,  I  was  hurled 
Into  this  quaint  world. 
Nobody  ever  told  me  why. 
I've  been  guessing  and  guessing  ever  since 
And  what  is  the  use  of  life  unless  we 
Know  that  one  thing,  imless  Fate  has  uncovered 
Our  destiny. 
But  now  that  I  know  .    .   .  why,  how  simple  it 

all  is! 
I  was  born 

To  love  you,  my  dear. 

Yes,  from  morning  till  evening  and  eve  to  mom 
To  fall  deeper  and  deeper  in  love  with  you. 
And  to  think  that  no  one  could  tell  me  that ! 

86 


ACT  II 

I  shouldn't  have  been  so  hard  to  convince. 

Think  of  the  time  I've  so  cautiously  wasted 

In  follies ! 

Looking  f  or  .    .    .  what  ?  .    .    . 

When  love  was  there ! 

Caring  f or  .    .    .  who  ?   .    .    . 

When  you  were  near ! 

And  this  has  lasted 

Half  my  Hfe. 

For  twenty  years  I've  been  running  away 

From  women.    I  was  afraid  .    .    . 


Marie 


Of  your  wife  ? 


Deburau 
Not  a  bit;  nor  of  them!    But  just, 
I  think,  of  being  unhappy.    I  meant 
Never  to  run  a  single  risk. 
Nothing  riskier  than  that ! 
Still  I've  been  loved.    I  suppose  one  must 
Call  it  love ; 

That  steady  solid  domestic  affection 
Which  moves  like  the  clock's  hands  round  the  disc 
Day  by  day. 

87 


DEBURAU 

It's  like  a  mackintosh  over  your  arm. 

And  I  was  the  man  who  never  went 

Out  without  one,  because  he  could  prove 

Though  there  wasn't  a  cloud  in  any  direction 

That  some  day  it  was  bound  to  rain. 

Or,   .    .    .  there  I  "sat, 

By  my  fireside,  safe  from  harm, 

Blind  to  life,  deaf  to  Ufe,  dumb ; 

Waiting  for  old  age  to  come. 

Why  are  things  that  are  comforts  when  life  goes 

wrong 
Such  a  dreadful  bore  while  life  goes  right? 
That's  very  naughty  of  Nature,  isn't  it? 
Hypocrite ! 

I  wanted  to  hear  the  word  passed  among 
My  friends:  "What  a  faithful  fellow  he  is!" 
Then  came  the  sight 
Of  you.    And  now,  if  you  please, 
On  me,  love's  pauper  and  life's  coward, 
All  the  wealth  of  the  world  has  been  showered. 
Oh,  my  heart's — my  untaught  heart's — desire 
All  the  wealth  of  the  world?    And  yet 
Day  by  day  the  pile  grows  higher. 
And  the  more  I  spend,  the  richer  I  grow 
The  more  I  give,  the  more  I  get ! 

88 


ACT  II 

What's  to  happen  I  don't  know, 

If  this  goes  on  ? 

For  I  can't  grow  any  happier. 

There's  nothing  now  that  doesn't  deUght  me, 

The  comAionest  things  appear 

Beautiful.    Food  and  wine  and  books 

And  furniture.    A  coster's  barrow  in  the  street. 

They're  so  aHve,  they  excite  me! 

It's  wonderful  to  sit  in  the  sun. 

And  when  the  sun  has  gone, 

And  the  rain's  begun. 

How  wonderful  the  rain  looks. 

Nothing  I  meet 

Here  on  earth,  or  shall  below. 

If  that's  where  I  go; 

Or  in  heaven  above 

If  you  lift  me  there,  but  I  know  how  to  love 

Loving  you  my  sweet. 

He  is  sitting  by  her  now. 

May  I  come  close  to  you? 
Now,  come  close  to  me. 
Now  I'll  come  a  Httle  closer  still. 
I  warn  you  I'm  going  to  say 
Things  perhaps  that  I  didn't  ought  to! 

89 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
Then,  perhaps,  you  had  better  keep  further  away. 

Deburau 

Oh,  not  that  sort  of  things,  the  things  you've  been 

taught  to 
Expect.    And  I'm  not  going  to  pose  to  you 
Silly  riddles  about  the  past. 
You're  a  woman,  you're  a  mystery; 
Well,  stay  so  still. 

For  me,  while  I  hold  the  present  fast. 
Or  if  I  may  only  sit  beside  you. 
Sit  and  look  and  look, 
That's  enough. 

Things  that  are  the  very  stuff 
Of  life  .    .    .  one  should  look  them  through  and 

through. 
So  quickly  they  pass. 
Think  what  a  fool  if  I  never  took 
My  chance  to  tear  the  veils  that  hide  you  .    .    . 
That  hide  .  .  .  you! 

Others  have  praised  you  without  ever  knowing 
What  they  were  praising. 
Such  a  beautiful  face ! 
Such  a  pretty  hand ! 

90 


ACT  II 

But  before  I  praise,  I  must  understand. 

Look  at  me;  I'm  your  glass. 

Your  face  is  like  music. 

Smile.     That's  the  melody. 

See  it  growing 

Till  each  feature,  from  its  place, 

Catches  the  phrasing. 

Completes  the  harmony. 

Your  neck!    I've  been  told  it's  classic. 

What  do  they  mean  by  that,  I  wonder? 

What  /  want  to  know 

Is  how  you  can  turn  it  so  .    .    .  just  so. 

I  could  sit  and  ponder 

For  hours  about  that.    I  understand  it 

About  as  much  as  one  understands 

A  miracle. 

Now,  give  me  your  hands. 

A  hand,  four  fingers  and  a  thumb ! 

An  impossible  thing  as  Nature  has  planned  it. 

Lift  your  hands.    Tell  me  to  come. 

Tell  me  to  go.    To  wake  ...  to  repose. 

I  can't  do  that.    I  talk  prose 

With  my  hands.    Yours  are  lyrical! 

She  is  talking  thus  to  him  with  her  hands 
when  the  clock  strikes  five. 
91 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
D'you  know  the  time? 

Deburau 
I  think  it  must  be  kissing  time. 
Did  the  clock  strike  that? 
If  not  it  struck  wrong. 

Marie 
Sh !  Some  one  at  the  door.    Come  in. 
The  Maid  enters. 

Maid 
Madame  Rabouin. 

Marie 
I'll  not  keep  her  long. 
The  Maid  goes  out  again. 

Deburau 
Who's  that? 

Marie 
Old  Mother  Rabouin.    You  know  her. 

Deburau 

Not  I! 
92 


ACT  II 

Marie 
Why,  where  have  you  been 
Not  to  know  Madame  Rabouin: 

Deburau 

Why 
Should  I  know  Madame  Rabouin  ? 

Marie 

She  goes  about  selling 
All  sorts  of  things  you  don't  find  in  shop- windows. 

Deburau 
I  see.    And  telling 
Innocent  people  the  way  that  the  wind  blows ! 

Marie 
She  sells  silks  and  shawls  and  ribbons  and  lace, 
Gloves  for  your  hands  and  masks  for  your  face, 
Soaps  and  scents  and  powders  and  creams, 
Sachets  to  put  under  your  pillow  at  night 
Made  to  bring  you  beautiful  dreams. 

Deburau 
H'm  .    .    .a  pretty  large  pack  she  must  carry. 
And  a  pretty  thick  broomstick  she  rides. 

93 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
Oh,  yes  .    .    .  she  tells  fortunes  besides. 

Deburau 
I  thought  as  much. 

Marie 
Looks  at  your  hand  and  into  the  cards. 
Will  you  try  ? 

Deburau 
No,  I  won't.    Let  her  seek  her  quarry 
Elsewhere  for  me. 

Marie 
She  can  tell  you  your  past. 

Deburau 

Thank  you,  I  know  it. 

Marie 
Your  future. 

Deburau 
Not  she! 
I've  shouldered  my  fate  and  I'm  marching  along 
with  it. 

94 


ACT  II 

What  .    .    .  let  an  old  woman  destroy  with  a 

touch 
All  that  my  wonderful  future  guards? 
I've   a  wonderful  future  ...  if   nothing   goes 

wrong  with  it. 

Marie 
Don't  you  want  to  know  if  it  will? 

Dehurau 
Not  a  bit. 

Marie 
Still, 
You  could  ask  her  one  question  you've  never  asked 
me. 

Deburau 
What  can  that  be  ? 

Marie 
You  could  ask  her  my  name. 

Deburau 
That's  true.   I 've  never  asked  you  what  your  name 
is. 

95 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
Tact  has  it  been  ...  or  don't  you  care? 
Some  day,  perhaps,  you  may  need  to  know. 
And  then  you  mustn't  sav  the  blame 
Is  mine. 

Deburau 
Would  you  like  to  tell  me?     It's  all  the  same! 

Marie 
How  can  you  talk  about  me  else? 

Deburau 
I  never  do.    D'you  think  I'd  share 
A  thought  of  you  with  anyone? 

Marie 
Not  in  your  own  thoughts  .    .    .    ? 

Deburau 

Ah  yes! 

Marie 

Well,  there? 
Deburau 
There  is  a  name  I  give  you  then  ...  a  sort  of 
a  name  .    .    . 

96 


ACT  II 

Marie 
Tell  me,  tell  me.    Oh,  what  fun! 

Deburau 
A  name  is  a  true  name  if  it  tells, 
Conjures  up  in  its  very  sound 
The  very  picture,  complete  in  its  frame 
Of  its  owner.    What  do  you  think  I  found 
For  a  name  to  think  of  you  by  ? 
My  lady  with  the  Camellia. 

Marie 

Why? 

Dehurau 

Because  I  shall  always  see  you 
As  first  I  saw  you  stand 
With  the  flickering  light  about  you 
And  that  flower  in 'your  hand. 

Marie 
Yes,  it  is  my  flower, 
I  always  have  one  near  me. 

Deburau 

From  that  time  that  was  your  name  for  me. 

Well,  now,  what's  the  other  .    .    .   everybody's 

name  for  you? 
7  97 


DEBURAU 
Marie 


Marie  Duplessis. 


Deburau 
Mine's  the  better  of  the  two. 

Marie 
I  agree 

So  please  give  it  me 
For  my  very  own. 

Deburau 

Will  you  keep  it  safely,  for  I've  grown 
Very  fond  of  it? 

Marie 

For  such  a  long  time 

I've  wanted  a  name  that  was  really  my  own. 
One  that  couldn't  be  stol«i  or  copied, 
One  that  men  couldn't  make  vulgar  or  stupid, 
That  couldn't  be  tagged  to  a  rhyme. 
So  now,  for  ever  and  ever  amen  .    .    . 
You  say  amen  since  you're  down  on  your  knee  .  . 
The  Lady  with  the  Camellia,  that  shall  be  me! 
What  are  you  waiting  down  there  for? 

98 


ACT  II 

Deburau 

This. 
The  end  of  a  baptism's  marked  with  a  kiss. 

Marie  leans  towards  him  to  be  kissed. 

Marie 
Godfather! 

Deburau 
Kissing  her  very  gently. 

Goddaughter!  my  dear! 

Marie 
Till  this  evening. 

Deburau 
Will  you  call  for  me  then  ? 

Marie 
At  the  theatre?    Perhaps. 

Deburau 

Oh,  my  dear,  oh,  my  dear! 
What  a  new  thing  my  life  is  since  you  entered  in  it, 
Child  that  you  are!  Child  that  /  am,  I  can't  bear 
To  let  you  out  of  my  sight  for  a  minute. 

99 


DEBURAU 

I  must  look  in  at  home,  though 

I  haven't  been  there  for  a  week  or  more. 

Marie 
You'll  hear  of  it. 

Dehurau 
What  do  I  care? 

Marie 
So  will  the  rest  of  the  world ! 

Deburau 

She  won't  dare! 
But  I  must  go  back  and  see  the  boy. 
He  misses  me  so. 

Marie 
Someone  else  yor  adore! 

Dehurau 
So  would  you.    Who  could  help  it,  the  rascal? 

He  shows  her  a  little  picture  in  his  pocket- 
book. 

I  carry  his  picture  now. 

lOO 


ACT  II 

Marie 
Very  like  you. 

Deburau 

Is  he,  d'you  think? 
Listen  now. 
Suppose,  one    day.    .    .   No,  what's  the  use? 

Marie 
Go  on.    I'll  "suppose"  if  you  tell  me  how. 

Deburau 

Well,  since  you  can't  answer  why  not  ask  all 
The  same?    And  besides  .    .    .   who  knows! 
And  besides  that,  it's  wonderful  just  to  ask  you. 
Will  you  marry  me? 

Marie 
Marry  you ! 

Deburau 

Don't  refuse 
On  the  spur  of  the  moment.    Let's  stand  on  the 

brink 
And  peep  over.    We  can't  jump  in. 
But  if  I  asked  you  to  be  mine, 

lOI 


DEBURAU 

For  ever  ...  for  ever  and  a  day, 

If  our  road  were  straight  instead  of  askew, 

What  would  you  say? 

Marie 
Well,  I  suppose  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Stop,  stop !    If  I  let  you  begin 
To  speak  you'll  say  "No." 
Now,  I  can't  ask  you   .    .    .  remember  I  can't 
So  .    .    .  nod  your  head. 
Then  you'll  not  have  said 
"Yes."    And  I'll  not  have  heard  you  say  "No." 
She  nods  her  head. 

Deburau 
Oh,  divine! 

To  have  you  and  hold  you  all  for  my  own ! 
That's  what  I  want,  oh,  that's  what  I  want ! 

Marie 
Gently,  gently!  Pierrot  has  grown 
Too  like  Pierrot. 
We're  not  living  in  Fairyland,  you  know. 

102 


ACT  II 

Deburau 

But  would  you  stay  there 

With  me,  if  I  could  find  out  the  way  there? 

Ask  your  old  witch.    Let  her  see 

If  she  can't  find  a  future  worth  having  for  me. 

Marie 
Oh,  yes,  yes !  (she  calls)  Madame  Rabouin ! 

Madame  Rabouin 
In  the  next  room. 


Here! 

Marie 
Come  in. 
Madame  Rabouin  appears. 

Madame  Rabouin 
Good  afternoon. 

Deburau 

Madame ! 

Marie 

My  friend  here 
Has  heard  me  talk  so  much  about  you. 

103 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
You  tell  fortunes? 

Madame  Rabouin 

I  do.    A  palm 
I  can  read  as  you  read  books. 

Deburau 
Will  you  turn  over  the  leaves  of  mine? 
And  then  no  doubt  you 
Will  find  something  .    .    . 

Madame  Rabouin 

Sit  down. 
Both  hands.    Hold  them  so. 

Deburau 
I  am  quite  ready  and  quite  calm. 


Ho! 


Ah? 


Madame  Rabouin 

Deburau 

Madame  Rabouin 

Can  you  face  the  truth? 
104 


ACT  II 

Deburau 

Madame  Rabouin 

Better  to  face  it,  if  Fortune  looks 

On  you  with  a 

frown^ 

Deburau 

Thanks,  I  decline. 

Good-evening. 

Marie 

Do  listen. 

No. 


Deburau 
No  need. 
Her  very  first  "Ho"  was  enough  for  me. 
I'll  take  my  troubles  as  they  come. 
They'll  come  soon  enough. 

Madame  Rabouin 

Won't  you  give  heed 
To  a  little  advice  as  to  how  to  avoid  them? 

Deburau 
Won't  you  please  let  me  be? 

105 


DEBURAU 

f     Madame  Rahouin 
There  they  are  written  large  on  your  pahn. 

Deburau 
Will  you  be  quiet? 

Madame  Rahouin 
It's  a  friendly  warning  I'm  offering  you. 

Deburau 
Here's  a  friendly  warning  I'll  offer  you! 
m  be  sorry  to  see  you  come  to  harm, 
But  if  you  can't  hold  your  tongue, 
I  see  no  way  but  to  give  you  a  diet 
Of  handkerchief  thrust  in  your  mouth  as  a  gag ! 
D'you  hear? 

Madame  Rahouin 
Quite  plainly. 

Dehurau 
Suddenly  losing  his  temper. 
You  hag ! 

You  bird  of  ill  omen ! 
D'you  want  your  neck  wrung? 
No  need  to  look  at  your  claw 
To  tell  what  you  are. 

1 06 


ACT  II 

And  you  show  men 

Your  future — and  I  tell  you  it's  not  to  your  profit — 

I  can  trace 

It  Hke  your  past 

Both  written  fast 

In  the  lines  of  your  face. 

Oh,  I  promise  you  that  I  don't  like  the  look  of  it. 

Allow  me  to  tell  you  you're  an  impostor. 

Palmistry ! 

All  that  you  do  is  to  dig  from  your  history — 

Your  own  wicked  history  of  vice  and  ill-luck — 

All  the  wrongs  that  have  stuck 

In  your  throat,  all  the  ill-will  that  you  foster. 

Loose  them  on  us,  will  you?    We  are  to  pay? 

We're  to  be  tripped  up,  dancing  to  your  tune? 

Doubled,  redoubled  they'll  fall  back  upon  you, 

Till  you're  choked  with  your  spite. 

Till  you  die  in  a  ditch  and  the  devil  has  won  you. 

Andnow,  my  good  madam,  I've  told  you  >'Owr  fortune. 

So,  good-day. 

Then  to  Marie. 

My  dear,  till  to-night. 

Deburau   bows  to   Madame   Rdbouin, 
throws  a  kiss  to  Marie,  and  goes. 
107 


DEBURAU 

Madame  Rahouin 
What  a  remarkably  interesting  man! 

Marie 
He's  full  of  nerves  .    .   . 

Madame  Rahouin 

But  so  full  of  charm! 
I'm  sorry  he's  coming  to  grief. 

Marie 
To  grief? 

Madame  Rabouin 
Written  indelibly  in  his  palm. 
Poor  fellow !    Let's  talk  of  pleasanter  subjects. 
I  came  today  with  a  wonderful  plan 
To  put  before  you. 

Marie 
Oh,  what  is  it? 

Madame  Rabouin 
First, 
May  I  be  very  unpleasantly  candid? 

Marie 

Of  course. 

io8 


ACT  II 

Madame  Rabouin 
You  won't  like  it. 

Marie 

Never  mind. 

Madame  Rabouin 
Not  but  what  it'll  be  a  relief 
To  me  to  speak  my  mind. 
This  is  the  worst 

Of  having  a  conscience  that  objects 
To  seeing  one's  friends  make  fatal  errors. 
You  may  want  to  treat  me  as  that  good  man  did, 
But  later  you'll  thank  me  for  this  visit. 

Marie 
Oh,  please  go  on.    I'm  very  ciuious. 

Madame  Rabouin 
First,  then,  my  dear, 
This  sort  of  thing  leads  to  no  good. 
No  matter  how  much  in  love  one  is 
There  are  Hmits  .    ,    . 

Marie 

Oh,  please  look  over  that. 
He  lost  his  temper,  and  all  the  terrors 

109 


DEBURAU 

You  conjured  up  only  made  him  more  furious. 
He'd  say  he  was  sorry  if  he  were  still  here. 

Madame  Rdbouin 
No  doubt  he  would ! 
No  doubt  he's  a  very  charming  fellow, 
He  must  be  to  have  wormed  his  way, 
And  to  have  such  a  hold  upon  your  Httle  heart. 

Marie 
Listen;  I'd  like  to  tell  you  this. 
You  think  I'm  madly  in  love  with  him. 

Madame  Rabouin 
He  thinks  so. 

Marie 
Does  it  follow 
That  he's  right?    I  have  learnt 
How  to  make  men  think  so. 

Madame  Rabouin 
\  Do  you  mean  to  say 

You're  not  in  love  with  him? 

Marie 

No.    That's  over. 
no 


ACT  II 

Madame  Rabouin 
Is  it,  indeed! 

Marie 

One  night  at  the  theatre  I  was  alone  .    .   . 
All  alone  and  a  little  lonely. 
Ah,  no,  it  didn't  start 
As  a  whim. 

Madame  Rabouin 
You  did  love  him. 

Marie 
Oh,  for  a  Httle  it  burnt 
Me  up  like  a  flame.    I  felt  sure,  quite  sure 
That  I  never  should  change.    Then  I  seemed  to 

recover 
After  a  Httle. 

Madame  Rabouin 
So  it's  gone? 
Marie 

Quite  gone. 
Madame  Rabouin 
Then  d'you  think  that  you  need 
Have  him  here  quite  so  much?    For  completing 
the  cure 

III 


DEBURAU 

It  is  rather  a  freak 

To  have  him  pay  calls  on  you  lasting  a  week. 

Marie 

I  know,  I  know!    If  only 

I  knew  what  else  to  do,  or  what  to  say ! 

But  he's  happy;  so  happy  in  thinking  I  love  him 

And  I  haven't  the  heart  to  send  him  away. 

I  know  it's  wrong, 

I  know  it's  foolish.    But,  you  see, 

Loving  has  mattered  so  little  to  me, 

And  to  him  it  seems  to  mean  so  much. 

Madame  Rahouin 

Well,  how  long 

Is  this  going  on  for? 

Marie 
Something  may  move  him 
To  leave  me  of  his  own  accord. 

Madame  Rabouin 

Good  lord! 

In  about  a  hundred  years  it  may. 

My  pretty,  this  sort  of  thing  doesn't  pay! 

112 


ACT  II 

Marie 
Pay?    Oh,  of  course,  I'm  in  the  clutch 
Of  that  beautiful  word. 
D'you  know  that  I'm  not  twenty  yet? 
Girls  of  my  age  are  still  at  school. 
But  the  only  lesson  I've  learnt  quite  pat 
Is  how  to  say  to  a  fool 
Of  a  man  "I  love  you"  without  meaning  a  word 

of  it. 
Sometimes  I'm  tired  of  it. 
At  least  he  wants  it  to  be  true. 
He  believes  it.    How  absurd ! 
He  believes  me.    I  should  hate 
Him  not  to  believe  me. 

Madame  Rabouin 

I'm  thinking  of  you, 
My  dear,  and  your  future.    Has  he  got  any  money  ? 

Marie 
Of  course  not. 

Madame  Rabouin 
Well,  whose  estate 
Does  he  think  all  this  is  provided  from? 
»  113 


DEBURAU 

Marie 
He  doesn't  think  of  it. 

Madame  Rabouin 

Innocent  baby! 

Marie 
He  is,  he  is ! 

Madame  Rabouin 
Well,  that's  as  may  be 
If  I'd  have  known  that  things  had  come 
To  such  a  funny 
Pass  as  this, 

I'd  have  thought  it  amiss 
To  tell  my  young  friend  he  could  try  his  luck. 

Marie 
Tell  what  .    .    .  tell  who? 

Madame  Rabouin 
I  don't  think  you  know  him. 

Marie 
What  have  you  told  him  to  do? 

Madame  Rabouin 
As  a  matter  of  fact, 

It  was  he  told  me  he  was  coming  to  call. 

114 


ACT  II 

I  said  I'd  find  out  if  you'd  see  him;  that's  all. 

You  needn't,  of  course ! 

But  tell  your  maid  to  show  him 

A  Httle  courtesy,  to  use  a  little  tact. 

For  he's  not  the  ordinary  young  spark 

Wanting  to  know  you  for  a  lark. 

Though  he's  young  enough  to  take  a  snub. 

And  then  he's  been  head  over  ears  in  love  with  you 

For — how  long? — a  couple  of  months,  not  less. 

He  talks  to  me  of  it  till  he's  hoarse. 

If  he   could  but   meet   you,   he   says,    without 

ceremony. 
At  any  cost. 

Not  that  he  need  count  cost.    That  isn't  the  rub 
With  him.    He's  rolling  in  money. 
Well,  if  you  won't  let  him  in, 
So  much  the  worse  for  him,  poor  fellow. 
And  you'll  never  know  what  you've  lost. 
And,  if  you  must  stick  to  this  charity  business, 
I've  no  doubt  that  in  time  things  will  improve 

with  you. 

Marie 
I  may  have  seen  him  somewhere. 
Is  he  dark,  or  fair? 

115 


DEBURAU 

Madame  Rahouin 
Well,  his  hair  isn't  yellow 
And  it  isn't  black. 
He's  as  handsome  as  sin, 
And  he's  none  of  your  imitation  men, 
Nothing  to  smack  of  the  actor  in  him. 
He  lives  in  this  world  and  not  half  in  the  moon ; , 
Lives  very  comfortably,  what's  more. 
Well,  again; 

All  he  has — he'll  keep  nothing  back — 
Can  be  thrown  at  your  feet. 
Come  now,  don't  sit  there  looking  so  prim : 
Here's  a  man  who's  prepared  to  adore 
You.    Handsome,  rich,  very  rich. 


Marie 

I  know,  I  know! 

But  please  don't  keep  on  saying  so. 

Madame  Rabouin 

There's  the  bell! 

What  hour  is  it? 

Marie 

It's  .    .    .   ? 

ii6 

ACT  II 

Madame  Rabouin 

He'll  be  here  soon. 
A  quarter  past.    That's  him.    I'm  ofif ' 

Marie 
No,  no  .    .    .  please  stay. 

Madame  Rabouin 

I'll  come  to-morrow  and  you 
shall  tell 
Me  what  happens. 

Marie 
Yes,  do. 

Madame  Rabouin 

One  thing  more. 
Let's  look  at  your  palm. 
That's  queer! 
People  scoff; 
But  I'll  swear 

That  little  star — see  it ! — was  not  there  before. 
Till  to-morrow.     Keep  calm. 

The  Maid  brings  Marie  a  card  which  she 
in  turn  shows  to  Madame  Rabouin. 
117 


DEBURAU 

Marie 


Is  it  he? 


Madame  Rabouin 
Yes.     Look,  you  can  see  him  from  here. 

Marie 
Why,  he  is  dark.    Fancy  your  not  knowing ! 

Madame  Rabouin 
It  only  shows  how  old  my  eyes  are  growing. 

Marie  {to  the  Maid) 
Ask  him  in. 

{To  Madame  Rabouin)  Thank  you. 

Madame  Rabouin 

Till  to-morrow,  my  dear. 

Madame  Rabouin  goes  off  with  the  maid. 
After  a  moment  the  Young  Man  appears. 
He  and  Marie  stand  looking  at  each  other 
for  a  few  seconds.  Then,  like  an  arrow,  as 
she  sinks  into  a  chair,  he  flings  himself  across 
the  stage  and  at  her  feet. 
Ii8 


ACT  II 

Young  Man 
Where  shall  I  find  the  words  in  which  to  tell  you 
AU  that  it  means  to  be  here  at  your  feet? 
No  worth  or  wealth  of  mine  that  can  compel  you 
To  squander  on  me  from  your  store  complete 
Of  beauty  and  of  tenderness  one  glance! 
But  let  your  pity  give  me  coimtenance. 

Pity  me  for  the  little  that  I  have 

To  bring  you ;  but  yotir  love  can  make  it  more. 

My  only  freedom  is  to  be  your  slave, 

My  only  wisdom  left,  the  leaf  I  tore 

Out  of  love's  book;  its  content  magical 

' '  I  love  you"  and  "  I  love  you. "    That  is  all. 

You  see  I've  nothing  new  to  say. 

The  thoughts  are  trite,  the  words  are  old. 

Why  should  I  wonder  they  leave  you  cold? 

Can  I  complain  if  you  send  me  away? 

Marie 
But  words  of  love  sound  always  new  and  real 
When  the  voice  speaking  them  is  real  .    .    .  and 

new. 
You  need  not  climb  poetic  heights  to  steal 
Eloquence,  if  the  simple  thing  sounds  true. 

119 


DEBURAU 

And,  simpler   still,   when   words  of  love  won't 

come 
To  better  "Love  is  blind"  with  "Love  is  dumb." 

If  I  know  that  you  love  me 

What  more  need  I  know? 

Why,  your  eyes  show  me  more 

Than  your  tongue  ever  can  show. 

How  your  eyes  shine ! 

They  are  traps 

That  have  caught  mine. 

I  looked  too  close, 

But  I  think,  perhaps. 

We  often  lose 

Beauty  in  life  because  we  shrink 

From  looking  at  things  close  enough. 

We  should  look  them  through  and  through  when 

they  are  the  very  stuff 
Of  life  .    .    .  don't  you  think? 
What's  amiss? 

Young  Man 
Nothing.     But  I  can't  speak. 
Oh,  the  stuff  of  your  very  dress 
Seems  to  have  life  in  it ! 

I20 


ACT  II 

Marie 
Touch  with  your  hand 

The  tip  of  my  ribbon  ...  no,  not  with  your  lips ! 
That,  I  shall  feel  for  sure. 
Very  well,  lay  it  against  your  cheek. 
Yes,  a  current  indefinite 
Of  pain,  of  joy,  somehow  slips 
Its  way  to  my  heart. 

Young  Man 
Oh,  my  heart ! 

You  can't  send  me  away  now?    I  can't  endure 
To  be  sent  away. 

Marie 
I  imderstand, 
Well  .    .    .  f or  a  little,  stay. 

At  this  moment  Deburau  appears.  He 
is  leading  his  little  son,  Charles,  by  the 
hand.  He  carries  a  little  dog  and  a  bird's 
cage  with  a  bird  in  it.  At  the  sight  of 
them  he  drops  the  cage.  Marie  and  the 
young  man  turn  around. 

Deburau 
Please  don't  move.    I  was  just  going, 
As  you  see. 

121 


DEBURAU 

I  didn't  mean  to  interrupt. 

But  such  a  ridiculous  thing  has  just  happened  to 

me. 
That  old  Rabouin  woman,  who  would  be  showing 
Me  danger  ahead  ...  I  ought  to  have  stopt 
To  listen.    Will  you  listen  to  these 
Ridiculous  things  ...  it  won't  take  a  minute? 
When  I  got  home  my  wife  had  been  gone 
Since  yesterday  evening,  if  you  please. 
Gone  .    .    .  yes,  bolted,  that's  what  she'd  done. 
Well,  thank  God,  she'd  left  me  the  boy; 
The  place  wasn't  empty  since  he  was  in  it. 
But,  lonely,  wasn't  it,  sitting  at  home, 
Charles,  waiting  for  me  to  come? 
She'd  left  me  Fifi,  too; 
And  the  canary,  think  of  that ! 
Well,  but  of  course  I  shouted  for  joy. 
Here  was  my  dream  coming  true. 
Here  was  the  way  to  Fairyland  clear. 
What  had  Fate  been  at ! 
And  off  I  ran  to  my  dear  ...  to  my  dear 
With  my  boy  and  my  bird  and  Fifi.    Well, 
Now  comes  the  ridiculous  part  of  the  story 
I  have  to  tell. 
When  I  found  her  what  else  should  I  find 

122 


ACT  II 

But  .    .    .    !    Will  you  repeat  this  little  history 

To  her?  .  .  .  that  would  be  kind, 

She  was  so  beautiful,  and  she  loved  me. 

But,  when  I  found  her, 

Around  her 

Had  sprung  up  the  hedge  of  a  strange  happiness. 

So  I  could  do  no  less 

Than  turn  away. 

Oh,  I  turned  at  once  and  went  away 

With  my  boy  and  Fifi  and  my  bird 

I  could  do  no  less  because  I  loved  her  so. 

I  want  her  to  know. 

And  not  to  forget. 

That  I  never  said  an  angry  word. 

There's  nothing,  tell  her,  she  need  regret; 

All's  as  well  as  can  be. 

And  now  all  I  care  for 

Is  that  whenever  she  thinks  of  me  .    .    . 

If  ever,  if  ever  she  thinks  of  me  .    .    . 

It  should  be  kindly.    Therefore 

She  must  remember 

That  the  happiness  she  gave  me, 

Joys  without  number. 

Riches  of  happiness. 

Will  suffice  to  save  me 

123 


DEBURAU 

For  a  long  time  from  distress. 

But  when  I've  spent  it  all  and  am  quite  poor  again, 

Perhaps  I'll  send  to  her,  and  then 

Perhaps  she'll  come 

Bringing  a  Uttle  alms  of  love. 

And  now,  please,  will  you  say  I'm  going  home? 

I  shall  be  there  if  she  needs  me. 

Forgive  my  disturbing  you.    Don't  move. 

Young  Man 
Who  is  this?    What  is  it  leads  me 
To  think  that  I  know  him? 

Marie 

It's  Gaspard  Deburau. 
Young  Man 
Oh,  do  introduce  me.    I've  always  admired  him  so. 

Marie 
Allow  me. 

Deburau 
Oh,  please!   Well,  if  you  say  I  shall  .    .    . 

Marie 
Jean  Gaspard  Deburau  .    .    .   Monsieur  Armand 
Duval. 

124 


THE  THIRD  ACT 


125 


THE  THIRD  ACT 

At  Deburau's.  It  is  almost  an  attic. 
Deburau  and  Charles  {who  is  now  seven- 
teen) are  finishing  their  lunch.  In  a  vase 
are  some  camellias. 

Charles 
Try  one  of  these. 

Deburau 
Nothing  more,  thank  you.    Help  yourself. 

Charles 
Nothing  at  all  is  what  you've  eaten! 

Deburau 
I've  no  appetite. 

Charles 

Try.     Don't  be  beaten. 

Have  a  pear?    Half? 

Please. 

Deburau  shakes  his  head.    There  is  a 

slight  pause. 

127 


DEBURAU 

Dehurau 
Did  you  ask  again  downstairs, 
Has  anyone  been  for  me? 

Charles 

No  one. 
Dehurau 


You're  sure. 


Charles 
Quite  sure. 

Dehurau 
Charles 


No  one! 

Not  a  soul. 


I  ask  every  day,  and  twice  a  day. 
Who  is  it  that  you  sometimes  say 
You've  been  waiting  for  these  seven  years? 

Dehurau 

That's  an  old  joke,  too  old  to  explain. 
There's  the  bell. 

Charles 

Yes,  for  the  second  floor. 
I  know  the  sound  of  every  one 
Would  you  like  me  to  go  and  ask  again? 

128 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
You  speak  as  if  it  were  you  spent  your  whole 
Time  in  listening !    I'm  sorry.    Just  go  to  the  door. 
For  think,  if  she  came — 
If  she — or  he — were  to  come  and  ring 
And  no  one  answered !    What  a  thing 
To  happen!    And  then  if  he  went — or  she  went 

away  .    .    .    ! 
So  go  all  the  same. 

Charles  goes,  listens,  and  returns. 

Charles 
No  one,  I  thought  not. 
Now,  seriously,  father,  how  are  you  to-day? 


Deburau 

Not  well. 

Charles 

I  know. 

Deburau 

My  breathing  is  so — so  .    . 

Charles 

And  your  head's 

hot. 

May  I  send  for  a 

L  doctor? 

129 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 

What  can  he  say  or  do? 

Charles 
At  least  he  might  make  you  eat. 
Would  it  hurt  you  to  go  out  for  a  little  ? 
Two  months  since  you  set  your  foot  in  the  street. 

Deburau 
I'm  not  to  be  cured  by  doctor  or  hospital. 

Charles 
Father,  don't  say  so ! 

Deburau 

Why  not,  if  it's  true? 

Charles 
You  should  never  have  given  up  acting. 
It  all  dates  from  then. 

Deburau 
What !  go  back  again  .    .    .    ? 

Charles 
They'd  ring  bells  if  you  did. 

130 


ACT  III 

Deburau 

And  a  precious  cracked  ring 
It  would  be  for  me ! 

Charles 
Try  it  and  see. 

Deburau 
.    .    .  Pull  faces 
To  amuse  a  set  of  loons, 
Who  forget  you  as  soon  as  your  place  is 
Filled  up  by  duller  and  damn'der  buffoons! 

Charles 
Give  them  their  due! 
When  have  you  found  them  faithless  to  you  ? 

Deburau 
Oh,  to  sit  and  think  of  past  successes 
Is  like — what's  it  like? — picking  over  a  rag-bag 
Full  of  the  faded  gaudy  dresses 
One  used  to  wear. 
Every  old  hag 

Was  beautiful  once  she'll  swear. 
I'm  humbler  than  most. 
I  only  boast 

To  have  been  once  a  rather  popular  clown. 

131 


DEBURAU 

Charles 
What's  worth  having  but  success? 

Deburau 
My  boy,  prick  a  vein  in  your  arm  and  write  this 

down 
In  your  blood.    Love's  worth  having.    Unless 
You  can  mix  love  with  your  drink  of  life 
You'll  go  parched,  no  matter  how  heady 
And  glorious  your  wine  of  success  and  of  fame  is. 
When  your  love  comes  be  ready, 
Seize  her  and  hold  her,  love  her  madly. 
It  hurts  to  love  madly.    But,  though  the  game  is 
Cruel,  you  must  play  it  out  to  the  finish. 
It's  a  worse  hurt  to  sit  and  sadly 
Coimt  the  lost  moments;  the  strife 
Unstriven ;  the  swinish 
Wallowing  lethargy  in  the  sty 
Of  failure.    Oh,  yes,  I  exaggerate. 
But,  at  any  rate, 
Have  a  try  to  live.    Have  a  try! 
But  you  don't  need  advice  from  me. 

Charles 

Why  do  you  say  that  ? 

132 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
Who  is  it  you  run  off  to  see  .   .   .    ? 

Charles 
I? 

Deburau 
Yes,  you! 
Every  day  as  it  gets  near  two 
I  see  you  with  your  eye  on  the  clock. 
Silly  boy,  what  are  you  blushing  at  ? 
Where  do  you  go  to? 

Charles 
The  theatre. 

Deburau 

What  theatre? 

Charles 

The  FoUies. 

Deburau 
Oh,  is  that  where  you  meet  her?     Who  is  she? 
Would  you  rather  not  say? 

Charles 
There's  no  one  at  all.    I  go  to  see  the  play. 

133 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
To  see  the  play!    Do  you  like  seeing  plays? 

Charles  (fervently) 
Oh,  yes! 

Deburau 
This  is  a  bit  of  a  shock. 

I  suppose  you're  not  thinking,  one  of  these  days, 
Of  becoming  ... 

Charles 
An  actor?    I  want  to  be. 

Deburau 
Do  you,  indeed !    Well,  you  might  have  told  me 
Before.    Am  I  the  sort  of  man  who  bullies 
His  children  ? 

Charles 
Let  me  work  hard  for  a  year. 
Give  me  a  chance;  I'll  work  so  hard. 
For  two  years?    Then,  perhaps,  I   could  show 
you  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Do  you  really  think  one  can  learn  to  act  ? 

134 


ACT  III 

Charles 
Well,  one  can  try. 

Deburau 
Oh,  there's  nothing  to  stop  you  trying, 
There's  nothing  to  stop  a  pig  from  flying, 
If  it  has  wings.    My  boy,  this  is  sheer 
Folly!  What  sort  of  parts  do  you  regard 
As  likely  to  .    .    .  well? 

Charles 
Parts  you  used  to  play. 

Deburau 

Parts  that  I  .    .    .    ! 

Really,  you  flatter  me;  really,  I  owe  you 

Thanks  for  such  an  effort  at  tact. 

Charles 
Oh,  of  course,  not  ever,  in  the  way 
You  used  to  play  them. 
Though  if  you'd  show  me  a  thing  or  two  .    .    . 

Deburau 
A  trick  or  two ! 

Of   course    that   is   all   my   acting    is   ...    or 
was!  .    .    . 

135 


DEBURAU 

A  few  tricks  I  stole  from  .    .    .  never  mind  who! 
Now,  in  my  turn,  I'm  to  betray  them 
To  you! 

Charles 
I  don't  think  so  at  all. 

Deburau 

Because 
You've  seen  me  do  it  easily. 
How  very  easy  it  must  be! 
Why  should  you  think  you  can  act  at  all? 

Charles 
I'm  still  yoimg  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Very! 
That's  at  least  a  fault  that  time  will  cure. 

Charles 
Doesn't  that  give  me  rather  a  pull? 

Deburau 

Over  me? 

Charles 
I*m  sorry 
You  should  think  I  meant  that. 

136 


ACT  III 

Deburau 

Don't  be  so  sure 
I'm  done  with. 

Charles 
Of  course  you're  not. 

Deburau 
There's  enough  left  in  me  perhaps  to  blot 
For  a  Uttle  the  sim  of  your  rising  fame. 

Charles 
Papa,  it's  a  shame 
To  make  jokes  like  that. 

Deburau 

Now,  listen  to  me. 
You're  not  quite  such  a  fool  as  you're  trjdng  to  be. 
You  think  you  can  act.    Well,  take  my  advice — 
For  remember  at  this  game  no  one  fails  twice — 
Try  something  easy.    You  can  learn  to  spout 
And  as  long  as  you've  words  to  help  you  out  .    .    . 

Charles 
No. 

I  think  I'll  do  better,  like  you,  in  dumb  show. 

137 


DEBURAU 
Deburau 


As  Pierrot? 


Charles 
Why  not,  why  ever  not,  I'd  like  to  know? 
I  can  move,  I  can  dance, 
I'm  as  light  on  my  feet  as  a  fly, 
I  can  try,  I  can  but  try. 

Deburau 
Very  well,  try. 

No  doubt  we  can  get  you  a  chance 
In  some  little  place  in  the  provinces. 

Charles  r' 

No.    I  think  not.    When  one  commences 
That  way  one  may  finish  that  way,  too. 
Better  start  in  Paris. 

Deburau 

No  doubt  that  is  the  thing  to  do. 
What  name  will  you  play  under? 

Charles 

What  name ! 
138 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
There  are  lots  to  be  found. 
The  chief  thing  about  which  to  take  care  is 
That  it  looks  well  in  print. 
It  should  also  have  an  attractive  sound. 
And  be  easy  to  remember.    It  should  give  one  a 

hint 
Of  something  familiar. 

Charles 

Why  not  my  own  name? 

Deburau 

What  may  that  be? 

Charles 
Deburau. 

Deburau 

That  happens  to  be  mine,  you  see. 
Your  name  is  Charles. 

Charles 

Charles  Deburau. 

Deburau 

Oh  no  .    .    .  oh  no ! 

Make  a  fool  of  yourself,  my  lad,  if  you  must  .    ,    . 
Of  yourself,  if  you  please. 

139 


'    DEBURAU 

But  you  don't  go  dragging  my  name  in  the  dust. 

My  name! 

Why,  what  is  that,  I  should  Hke  to  know, 

But  another  self,  a  second  Deburau, 

That  I've  built  up,  piece  by  piece. 

Sweated  and  suffered  to  create  it 

And  now  you  want  to  appropriate  it. 

Do  the  same 

For  yourself,  my  lad. 

If  you're  such  a  genius. 

Not  a  bad 

Idea;  in  fact,  most  ingenious. 

To  slip  into  my  shoes.  j 

But  it  happens  I  don't  choose 

That  you  should.    And  don't  you  try  it. 

My  name!  The  wealth  of  the  world  shan't  buy  it. 

I'm  down,  out,  and  done  for,  you  think. 

While  you're  on  the  brink 

Of  success. 

None  the  less. 

While  I've  a  breath  in  my  body,  I  swear 

You  don't  play  my  parts  in  my  name,  so  there! 

Charles 

Then  I  must  wait. 

140 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
Till  I  can't  prevent  it? 

Charles 
I  didn't  mean  that. 

Deburau 
Never  mind  if  you  meant  it 
Or  not.    You  mayn't  have  long  to  wait. 

Charles 
Papa,  I  never  meant  to  say  it. 

Deburau 
That's  why  it  sounded  so  well. 
The  very  best  effects  are  sometimes  made  that  way. 
You're  quite  cut  out  for  parts  that  need  no  feeling. 
I  much  regret  the  slight  delay. 
But  be  patient.    There's  no  telling. 
By  to-morrow  or  next  day 
You  may  be  quite  free  to  go  your  way 
And  try  what  sort  of  trade  the  actor's  is.    Well,  my 

dear  boy, 
I  wish  you  joy ! 

Charles 

It  has  served  you  well  enough. 

141 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Oh,  yes!  Although  I've  had  some  rather  tough 
Times  you've  not  known  about.    Do  you  remem- 
ber .    .   . 
(Oh,  this  is  nothing)  .    .    .  but  one  damp  De- 
cember 
I  had  to  bring  my  manager  before  a  magistrate 
For  giving  me  a  dressing-room  in  such  a  filthy 

state 
That  I  nearly  died  of  it?    But  I  won  my  case 
By  showing  there  in  Court,  before  his  face, 
A  dozen  mushrooms  that  I'd  picked  the  night 

before 
From  the  dressing-room  floor. 
A  hard  life! 
And  a  shrewish  wife, 
The  art  of  acting  is  to  wed. 
Unless  you  can  really  take  delight 
In  the  neglect  and  jealousy  and  spite, 
Which  are  its  daily  bread. 

Charles 
You  haven't  always  felt  like  this  about  it. 
Oh!  the  first  nights  I  recollect 
When  I  sat  up  till  you  came  home. 

142 


ACT  III 

If  the  play  had  gone  well  you'd  always  affect 
A  little  indifference,  you'd  smile  and  say, 
"I  didn't  do  badly;  but  I  haven't  a  doubt  it 
Will  be  a  failure.    That's  always  the  way. 
Wait  till  the  papers  come!" 
I  suppose  if  you  hadn't  observed  that  rite 
You  wouldn't  have  slept  a  wink  that  night. 
Then  in  the  morning  when  the  papers  came 
And  we  looked  through  them  till  we  found  your 

name 
Always  a  shout  when  we  found  your  name ! 
Then  out  to  lunch  you'd  go 
Looking  so  smart. 

"When  I've  made  a  success,"  you'd  say, 
"I  can  count  on  a  week's  invitations  to  lunch." 
I'd  often  try 
To  pass  the  caf6  by 
And  peep  on  the  sly 

To  where  they  all  stood  around  you  in  a  bunch, 
Praising  you  .    .    .   praising  your  art. 
You  were  happy  then,  I  know. 
You  tell  me  now  of  neglect  and  spite. 
Think  of  that  night 
When  the  whole  audience  stood  and  shouted  your 

name 

143 


DEBURAU 

Till  you  came. 

And  when  you  came  they  brought  the  house  down. 
Did  you  feel  then  you  were  only  a  clown  ? 
And  you'd  ask  my  advice  .    .    . 

Dehurau 
Your  advice! 

Charles 
Oh,  indeed,  but  you  would ! 
Whenever  I'd  been  to  the  theatre  you'd  ask, 
"How  did  I  play  to-night?" 
I'd  say — ^for  I  thought — it  was  wonderful  quite 
That  you  probably  were 
The  greatest  actor  in  the  world. 
You'd  smile.     But  then  with  a  spice 
Of  something  else  in  your  voice  you'd  say, 
"Why  probably?"    Then  I'd  be  set  the  task, 
To  pick  out  the  tiniest  fault  if  I  could. 
So,  just  to  please  you  as  I  thought, 
"At  your  first  exit,"  once  I  said,  "as  you  turned 
Wasn't  the  gesture  rather  queer?" 
Oh,  but  you  turned  on  me!    I  curled 
With  shame.    Queer!  Would  I  kindly  explain 
What  I  meant  by  "queer"?    I  noted  that  down 

144 


ACT  III 

In  my  child's  mind ;  not  to  be  caught 

Ever  again. 

Oh,  papa! 

If  anyone  then  had  called  you  a  clown : 

A  little  pause.  Deburau  makes  no  move- 
ment; then  Charles,  thinking  he  may  have 
fallen  asleep,  tiptoes  towards  the  door. 

Deburau 
No,  I'm  not  asleep.    Stay  where  you  are. 

Charles 
But  .    . 

Deburau 
No,  this  afternoon  you  can  stay  with  me. 

Charles 
But  if  anyone  came  I  could  leave  the  key  .    .    . 

Deburau 
No  one  will  come. 

A  silence. 

Yes,  there's  the  sound 
Of  our  bell-wire  scraping  on  the  wall. 

145 


DEBURAU 

There's  the  bell!  Run  into  the  hall 
Quickly.    I  daren't  look  round. 

Charles  has  gone  out  and  after  a  moment 
returns  with  Robillard. 

Charles 
It's  Monsieur  Robillard. 

Robillard 

Well,  old  man  ? 

Deburau 
Good  to  see  you.    Sit  down.    Charles,  bring  that 


chair. 

Robillard 

Better? 

Deburau 

Not  much. 

Robillard 

Cheer  up. 

Deburau 

You  seem  to  think  that  I  can 

Charles 

You  want  to  talk 

;  I'll  go. 

146 

I've  news. 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
You're  all  right  where  you  were. 
Charles  sits  apart  very  impatient. 

Rohillard 

Deburau 

News? 

Robillard 
Most  amazing. 

Deburau 


Of?  .    .    . 
Yes. 


Robillard 


Deburau 
But  ...   of  whom? 

Robillard 
Well,  you  wanted  to  know  what  had  become 

Deburau 
Of  my  wife!   I  suppose  I  did. 

Robillard 
I've  seen  her. 

147 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Seen  her? 

Robillard 

Not  three  hours  back. 
I  thought  I  never  should  get  on  her  track, 
But  there  I  was,  this  morning,  gazing 
At  nothing  particular  when  she — 

Deburau 

Hush! 
Charles  has  left  the  window  to  find  a 
book  and  is  near  them. 

Deburau 
How  are  things  at  the  Follies? 

Robillard 

Well,  they  all  bid 
Me  bring  you  their  love.    Not  as  one  could  wish. 
Week-days  are  bad;  Sundays  are  better. 

Charles  has  by  this  gone  back  to  the 
window. 

Deburau 
Go  on.    I  suppose  it's  as  we  feared; 
The  poor  wretch  has  come  to  utter  grief? 

148 


ACT  III 

Robillard 
No,  she's  all  right. 

Deburau 
All  right? 

Robillard 

Yes,  she  appeared 
A  little  older,  perhaps,  and  plumper  .    .    . 
Well,  she  was  always  plump. 
But  more  contented.    That  was  the  chief 
Thing  that  one  noticed.    I  hadn't  to  pump  her. 
She  wanted  to  tell  me  and  so  I  let  her. 

Deburau 
Well? 

Robillard 
Well,  there  she  is  with  a  man 
Who  keeps  a  big  jeweller's  shop. 

Deburau 

A  shop ! 

Robillard 
I  gather  he's  very  well-to-do. 
She  was  charmingly  dressed,  not  at  all  the  frump 

149 


DEBURAU 

She  used  to  be.     It  seems  he's  a  good  sort  of 
fellow,  too. 

Deburau 
A  tradesman !  Rather  a  drop 
From  what  she  was  used  to  with  me. 

Robillard 
She's  all  but  married  to  him,  you  see, 
Calls  herself  Madame  .    .    . 

Deburau^ 

She's  taken  his  name, 
And  given  up  mine? 

•  Robillard 

Well,  you  mustn't  blame 
Her  for  that. 

Deburau 
But  what  taste! 
Here's  a  nice  touch  of  irony. 
I  honour  that  creature  with  my  name, 
She  flings  it  back  at  me  at  the  very  same 
Moment  her  son  is  up  to  the  felony 
Of  trying  to  steal  it.    Oh,  but  why  waste 

150 


ACT  III 

Time  on  a  woman  who,  without  a  pang, 
Lets  her  husband  go  hang ! 

Robillard 
But  had  you  a  flood  of  tears  ready  to  fall 
For  her  loss? 

Deburau 
That's  not  the  same  thing  at  all 
I  never  told  her  with  my  eyes  full  of  tears 
And  a  sob  in  my  voice  and  my  arms  round  her 

neck 
That  I'd  die  if  she  left  me.    But  for  ten  soHd  years 
She  said  that  to  me  about  once  a  week. 

Robillard 
I'm  sure  she  meant  it. 
And  she  suffered  then, 
When  the  smash  came. 
But  she  couldn't  prevent  it. 
So  she  picked  up  the  pieces  and  started  again. 
Women  do. 

Deburau 
Do  men  ? 

151 


DEBURAU 

Robillard 
Yes,  why  shouldn't  they  do  the  same? 

Deburau 

Because  .    .   . 

Listen  to  me;  they  are  different  laws 

A  man  loves  under.    I'm  sure  that  she  meant  it. 

The  mistake  was  I  thought  that  she  meant  it 

for  me. 
But  she  meant  it  just  for  her  husband,  you  see, 
Whoever  at  the  moment  he  happened  to  be. 
Remember  this,  when  I'm  out  of  the  way  .  .  . 
It's  the  wisest  thing  I  shall  ever  say  .  .  . 
To  a  woman,  you're  something,  not  somebody  ever; 
When  she  loves  you  she  kisses  not  you,  but  her 

lover. 
She's  true  to  her  husband ;  she's  not  true  to  you. 
She'd  be  true  to  a  dozen,  a  dozen  times  true! 
Oh,  the  trouble  she'd  take 
To  buy  or  make 

The  little  dish  I  liked  for  supper! 
"Darling,  it  needs  a  touch  more  pepper, 
Or  a  little  mustard  to  savour  it." 
And  it  was  the  dish  she  liked  the  best. 
Now  she  cooks  supper  for  him, 

152 


ACT  III 

A  different  dish,  but  she'll  still  protest 

It's  her  favourite. 

Isn't  it  grim? 

If  he's  ill  what  a  nurse  she'll  be! 

What  a  nurse  she  once  made  me! 

"Poor  Gaspard,"  as  she'd  slip  the  pillow 

Under  my  head. 

Now  she  hovers  round  his  bed 

With  "Poor "  whatever  she  calls  the  fellow. 

Does  she  ever  think  of  the  boy,  I  wonder? 

Robillard 
I'm  sure  she  does,  but  imder 
Rather  a  different  aspect, 
I  expect. 
Because  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Well,  why  that  pause? 

Robillard 
She  has  two  children  of  her  own  now,  so  to  speak. 
Fine  little  chaps,  I  saw  them. 

Deburau 

Ah  I  a  streak 
Of  real  humour!    That  saves  my  life. 

153 


DEBURAU 

I  no  longer  feel  that  I've  lost  my  wife 

But  rather  that  I'd  the  honour  to  be 

For  a  little  time 

The  partner  of  a  charming  lady 

Who  now,  in  the  prime, 

Of  a  buxom  maturity 

Is  a  most  delectable, 

Eminently  respectable 

Matrimonial  prop 

Of  a  gentleman  keeping  a  jeweller's  shop. 

His  for  eternity ! 

Life  seems  tragic  sometimes,  no  doubt, 

But  it  turns  to  comedy  if  you  sit  it  out. 

Robillard 
Well,  if  that's  helped  to  lessen 
Your  trouble  .    .    . 

Dehurau 
Oh,  yes,  it  gives  me  a  lesson. 
She  has  forgotten,  has  she?    Well,  I 
Have  something  more  to  forget.    Shall  I  try? 
I'm  ill;  but  not  so  very  ill. 
I  wouldn't  mind  being  out  and  about 
If  I  could  only  stop  myself  looking  about 
Not  for  her,  but — you  know — for  her. 

154 


ACT  III 

Robillard 
Come  to  the  theatre:  not  to  play, 
Just  for  a  word  with  us  all. 

Deburau 

That's  the  way 
I  should  miss  her  if  she  came. 

Robillard 
What  nonsense  this  is!    You'll  stay  and  fret 
Here  in  this  wretched  garret  until 
You  die  of  old  age.    And  all  the  same 
Never  a  step  to  you  will  she  stir. 
Put  on  your  hat  now  and  come  with  me. 

Deburau 
Not  now,  not  now.    Look,  it's  nearly  three. 
And  I've  always  been  sure  that  if  she  came 
She'd  come  at  three  .    .    .   no,  at  a  quarter  to. 

Robillard 
These  fancies  are  very  bad  for  you. 

Deburau 
There's  the  bell !    Who  can  that  be? 

155 


DEBURAU 

Robillard 
Come,  come,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  get  in  a  state. 

Deburau 
I  know.    It  isn't  she.    Why,  what's  amiss? 

Rohillard 
Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact — it  is. 

For  Marie  Duplessis  has  entered 

Deburau 
You  see!  She's  only  five  minutes  late. 
He  tries  to  rise. 

Marie 
No,  no,  don't  move. 

Deburau 
Oh,  my  dear! 
Then  to  Robillard. 
Take  the  boy  with  you. 

Marie 
Your  boy  ? 

Deburau 
You  remember. 

156 


ACT  III 

Marie 
How  he  has  grown. 

Deburau 
There  has  been  time. 

Marie 

But,  what  a  joy 
To  have  such  a  son ! 

Robillard  {to  Deburau) 
He  doesn't  want  to  go. 

Deburau 

Why  not? 

Robillard 
Says  you  told  him  to  stay. 
But  if  he  sees  me  run  away 
He'll  take  in  the  situation. 

Deburau 

I  fear 
He  has  mastered  it  at  a  glance. 
Never  mind, 

Be  off.     Leave  him  behind. 

157 


DEBURAU 

Rohillard 
Well,  you'll  look  us  up  in  a  day  or  so. 
{To  Marie.) 
Madame. 

Marie 
Monsieur. 

Robillard 
Good-bye,  Charles.    In  a  trance? 

Charles 
I  beg  your  pardon.    Good-bye. 

Robillard 
Good-bye. 

Robillard  goes.      Charles  comes  to  sit 
near  his  father  .    .    .   and  Marie. 

Marie 
How  old  is  he? 

Deburau 
Sixteen. 

Charles 

Seventeen,  papa. 
158 


ACT  III 

Marie 
So  much !  But  you  grow  younger. 

Deburau 

Yes,  in  him. 

Marie 
He  is  very  charming. 

Deburau 

Be  off,  my  lad, 
Such  a  great  fellow  as  you  are ! 
It's  very  bad 

To  be  lounging  about  the  house  all  day. 
Trot  along. 

Charles 
Where  to  ? 

Deburau 

Well,  I  must  say! 
These  ducklings  take  too  much  teaching  to  swim ! 
Be  off  somewhere. 
Run  to  the  Follies  and  amuse  yourself  there. 

159 


DEBURAU 

Charles 
To  the  theatre!  Oh,  yes  ...  if  I  may. 
Thank  you!    Madame,  good-day. 
He  goes. 

Marie 
Charming,  quite  charming ! 

Deburau 

I  see  that  he  is ! 
Oh,  at  last  you  are  here. 
I  knew  you'd  come. 
Such  bliss ! 

But  a  poor  place  to  welcome  you  to,  my  dear, 
Is  my  home.  / 

Marie 
I'm  not  looking  at  that. 

Deburau 

But  you  can. 
It's  not  so  bad. 

Marie 

Camellias!' 

x6o 


ACT  III 

Deburau 

Why,  yes! 
But  you've  none  in  your  dress. 

Marie 
They  seem  to  die  now  if  I  wear  them. 
But  I  always  have  them  about  me. 
Give  me  those  if  you  can  spare  them 
For  a  talisman. 

Deburau 

Are  you  in  danger,  then  ? 

Marie 

Why  should  I  be? 
But  .    .    .   you  can  see  a  difference  in  me? 

Deburau 
Not  any,  to  me. 
And  there  never  can  be. 

Marie 
Oh,  la,  la! 

Deburau 
Do  you  doubt  me? 
/  have  changed  though. 
"  i6i 


DEBURAU 
Marie 


My  poor  friend, 
Lying  so  ill. 


Deburau 
I'm  not  ill. 

Marie 
But  they  told  me  so. 

Deburau 
Who  told  you  ? 

Marie 
I'd  a  letter  from — 

Deburau 


Robillard? 
Marie 

Yes,  on  Sunday. 

Deburau 


Oh! 


Marie 
What's  the  matter? 

162 


ACT  III 

Dehurau 

It  took  that  to  bring  you. 
Never  a  thought  of  me  when  I  was  well. 

Marie 
Yes,  I  have  thought  of  you  very  often. 

Deburau 
Loving  me  still? 

Marie 
Still  loving  you   .    .    . 

As  much  as  ever.    I  meant  to  come  one  day. 
A  dozen  times  I've  started 
And  then  not  been  able. 

Dehurau 
Curse  them ! 

Marie 
Who? 

Deburau 
How  can  I  tell? 

Marie 

Why  curse  them? 

163 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Because  since  we  parted 
A  dozen  times  they've  made  you  miserable. 
Then  you  started  to  come  to  me. 
Isn't  that  so  ? 

Marie 
'  Yes. 

Deburau 

You  should  have  come. 
Are  you  unhappy? 

Marie 
I  have  some 
Unhappy  times. 

Deburau 
Many ! 

Marie 
Yes,  many. 
But  since  I  love  him  I  prefer  to  be 
Unhappy. 

Deburau 
At  last,  at  last,  you  understand! 
Now  we  can  sing  love's  litany 
Together,  hand  in  hand. 

164 


ACT  III 

Marie 
I  can't  explain  why  I  love  him  so. 
It's  that  he's  .    .    . 

Deburau 
Oh,  I  know,  I  know. 
Who  should  know  if  I  don't  know! 
It's  that  he's  a  part  of  you. 
He  has  the  heart  of  you, 
He  is  the  heart  of  you. 
Nothing's  true  if  that's  not  true. 

Marie 
Why  did  you  sing  the  litany  to  me? 
I  think  that  taught  me  to  believe  in  it. 
She  is  breaking  down. 

Deburau 
There,  there,  now!    Quiet  a  minute. 
Wait;  it  will  all  come  right,  you'll  see. 

Marie 
You  were  the  first  to  tell  me  .    .    . 

Deburau 

But  now  you're  wiser  than  I, 
And  you  can  take  up  the  tale. 

165 


DEBURAU 

Now,  now,  you're  not  going  to  cry. 

That  won't  avail, 

Will  it?    Now,  what's  the  trouble?    Let's  have  it 

laid  bare. 
You  must  give  me  my  share. 

Marie 
They  want  him  to  leave  me  for  good  and  all. 
His  father  wants  him  to  marry; 
He  came  this  morning  to  tell  me  so. 

Deburau 

His  father  came ! 

Marie 
The  maid  said,  "Monsieur  Duval's  in  the  hall." 
I  knew  she  couldn't  mistake  the  name. 
Some  joke  of  Armand's,  I  thought. 
In  walked  his  father. 

Deburau 

How  dare  he! 

Marie 
Would  I  please  let  his  son  go? 
He  put  it  a  little  crudely. 

1 66 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
The  man  should  be  taught 
Manners. 

Marie 
Yes,  it's  behaving  rather  rudely 
To  keep  your  hat  on  your  head. 
And  the  things  he  said! 
"Just  to  oblige  me,"  he  said.    Did  you  ever 
Hear  anything  like  it? 

Deburau 

Mad  of  him. 

Marie 
I  told  him  I  would,  just  to  get  rid  of  him. 

Deburau 
Will  you? 

Marie 
Never,  never,  never. 
Oh,  look  at  the  time! 

Deburau 

You  must  go  ? 
167 


DEBURAU 

Marie 

Yes;  I'm  sorry. 

Deburau 
Won't  you  stay  a  minute  longer, 
Even  to  talk  of  him? 

Marie 

I  must  hurry. 

Deburau 
There  was  no  attraction  stronger 
I  could  think  of. 

Marie 

But,  listen  to  me. 
I'm  going  to  call  from  your  window; 
There's  someone  I  want  you  to  see. 

Deburau 
Who? 

Marie 
My  doctor;  he's  waiting  below. 

Deburau 
A  doctor!    What  nonsense! 

i6S 


ACT  III 

Marie 
I've  not  told  him  your  name. 

Deburau 
Why  ever  not? 

Marie 
Well,  he  sees  such  a  lot 
Of  people,  and  chatters.  .    .   . 

Deburau 
I  tmderstand. 

Marie 

Not  that  in  one  sense 

It  matters. 

But,  all  the  same. 

My  bringing  him  here  .    .    . 

Deburau 
I  quite  tmderstand. 

Marie 
He's  a  very  good  doctor. 
He  has  been  mine 
For  nearly  a  year. 

169 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Are  you  ill? 

Marie 
Not  a  sign, 
Is  there,  of  anything  wrong? 
No,  nothing  to  call 
Illness.    I  cough  a  little  sometimes  .    .    .  that's 

all. 
May  I  beckon  him  up?    He  shan't  stay  long. 

Deburau 
Yes,  yes. 

Marie 
That's  right. 
She  calls  from  the  window  and  beckons. 
St!  Doctor!  (then  to  Deburau 
again)   That's  good. 

Deburau 
If  it  pleases  you. 

Marie 

He'll  work  a  cure.    He  promised  he  would. 

170 


ACT  III 

Deburau 

Do  his  medicines  touch 
The  heartache  that  seizes  you, 
The  thoughts  that  rend 
Your  memory? 

Marie 
Ah,  my  friend. 
In  this  worid  one  mustn't  expect  too  much. 

Deburau 
And  I've  waited  for  this! 

Marie 

For  what? 

Deburau 
For  you  to  come  .    .    .  bringing  your  doctor! 
A  doctor   .    .    .  when  you  are  here ! 
A  doctor   .    .    .   when  you  are  gone! 
And  you  expect  a 
Wonderful  cure,  do  you  not? 
My  dear. 

In  my  case  the  one  thing  clear  is 
That  there's  more  salvation 
In  a  word  from  you, 

171 


DEBURAU 

A  look  from  you, 

Alone, 

Than  a  consultation 

With  every  doctor  in  Paris. 

Marie 
There  he  is.    1*11  open  the  door. 

Deburau 
Yes,  open  it  .    .   .  and  go. 

Marie 
Not  for  a  minute  .    .    .    ! 

Deburau 
Oh,  please  go, 
Or  you  might  keep  him  waiting 
And  that  you'd  never  forgive  me. 

Marie 
Not  five  minutes  more? 

Deburau 
No;  let  in  your  doctor,  and  leave  me. 

Marie 
You  tell  me  you've  wanted  me  so 
And  now  you  tell  me  to  go ! 

172 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
Hating 

To  tell  you?    No. 
Give  me  your  hand. 
Listen,  and  try  to  understand. 
Ah,  smile  at  me.    When  I've  let  your  hand  go 
I  shall  hold  your  smile  fast ! 
Now,  remember  when  this  is  past 
That  the  less  we  have  the  less  we  have  lost. 
With  life  at  its  best  I  wanted  you  most. 
Life's  over, 
I've  loved  you.    Now,  go  to  your  lover. 

Marie  opens  the  door  to  the  Doctor,  says 
a  few  words  to  him,  then  does  smile  at 
Deburau  and  then  .    .    .  goes. 

Deburau 
Come  in,  do  come  in,  and  sit  down. 

Doctor 
Well? 

Deburau 
What  a  lot  of  trouble  to  put  you  to 
For  a  poor  wretch  who's  not  worth  it. 

173 


DEBURAU 

Doctor 
Never  mind  mine;  what's  your  trouble? 
Come,  let's  unearth  it. 
Are  you  in  pain? 
Just  loosen  your  dressing-gown. 
Thank  you. 

He  starts  to  sound  him. 

Deburau 
Not  a  bit!    I  wish  I  were, 
It'd  be  something  to  think  about. 

Doctor 
Breathe  deeply.    Thank  you.    Again. 

Deburau 
Not  pneumonia,  single  or  double? 

Doctor 

Neither. 

Deburau 
Well,  I  feel  badly  fotmd  out 
I'm  a  fraud. 

174 


ACT  III 

Doctor 
Not  at  all,  my  dear  sir. 
But,  to  make  a  quite  imscientific  guess 
At  the  cause  of  your  distress 
(Which  sometimes  serves), 
I  think  you're  suffering  from  what's  called  nerves. 

Dehurau 
That  may  be  so. 

Doctor 
Well,  now,  you  know, 
You  can  shake  yourself  free 
If  you  choose.    Get  up,  go  about, 
Order  yourself  a  good  dinner  to-night. 

Dehurau 
Will  you  provide  the  appetite? 

Doctor 

Seriously, 

If  you  don't  make  some  endeavour 
To  battle  with  this,  my  friend. 
How  will  it  end  ? 
Perhaps  with  a  dip  in  the  river. 

175 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
That's  a  prescription  you  might  write  out. 

Doctor 
There  are  better  ones,  however. 
No,  not  physic. 
Now,  tell  me,  are  you  fond  of  music? 

Deburau 
Drowning  is  quicker  and  not  so  noisy. 

Doctor 
Art? 

Deburau 
By  art  I  suppose  you  mean 
Covering  canvas  up  with  paint? 
Well,  I  much  prefer  it  clean. 

Doctor 
Nature? 

Deburau 
Nature  makes  me  feel  so  small. 
Poor  man,  however  tall 
He  tries  to  grow,  Nature  outtops  him. 
Whatever  noise  he 

176 
\ 


ACT  III 

Tries  to  make  in  the  world,  she's  noisier, 

She  has  no  restraint. 

I  venture  to  think  that  the  Creator 

Ought  by  this  time  to  have  civilized  Nature. 

Doctor 
Do  you  read  much? 

Dehurau 
Think  of  the  time  a  man  employs  here 
Reading  books !  And  when  death  stops  him 
What  has  he  read? 
Better  to  wait  until  he's  dead. 
I  have  my  doubts  if  Heaven  looks 
Like  the  pictures,  full  of  seraphs  and  cherubs. 
If  the  lion  purrs  when  by  chance  he  rubs 
Against  the  lamb,  though  it's  very  pretty. 
But  I've  always  been  sure  the  Eternal  City 
Would  be  full  of  books. 
Think  of  the  men  of  light  and  leading 
Who've  gone  there !    So  I  propose  to  pass  eternity 
In  reading. 

Doctor 

But,  for  mere  mortality. 
What  about  the  theatre  now 

177 


DEBURAU 
Deburau 


What  a  suggestion 


Doctor 


Do  you  question 

The  prescription  ? 

I  often  take  a  dose  myself. 

Deburau 
No,  in  reality 
I  was  only  wondering  how 
A  dose  would  taste  to  me,  nasty  or  nice. 
Will  any  description 
Of  theatre  suffice? 
Any  bottle  from  the  shelf? 

Doctor 
Any  theatre  may. 
But  I  always  say 

That  the  cure  does  not  depend  on  the  play- 
Although,  of  course,  the  play's  a  factor — 
I  usually  prescribe  some  particular  actor. 

Deburau 

What  sort  of  an  actor? 

178 


ACT  III       " 

Doctor 

Not  one  of  the  sort 

That   the   manager  calls   like  a  cab   from   the 

rank, 
Conscientiously  earning  his  living 
By  painting  his  face  and  speaking  his  part. 
But  there   are  one   or  two  we  should  humbly 

thank, 
We  physicians,  though  they  beat  us. 
While  we  are  striving 
With  science,  which  in  the  last  resort       ^ 
Is  like  a  candle  without  a  light. 
There  comes  this  actor  with  his  art 
His — what  d'ye  call  it — "divine  afflatus." 
A  bit  of  a  blackguard  he  may  be, 
Ignorant,  idle,  devil-may-care, 
Poverty-stricken.     But  since  somewhere 
There  lurks  in  him  that  touch  of  the  divine 
Which   he   spends,   spills   as   a   drunkard   spills 

wine — 
But  that's  Nature's  way,  you  see, 
Nature's  own  generosity — so  he. 
However  worthless  he  may  seem  to  be. 
Because  he  offers  you  his  heart's  blood, 
Can  do  you  good. 

179 


DEBURAU 

Dehurau 
And  can  you  tell  me  of  such  an  actor, 
Such  a  man? 

Doctor 
Indeed  I  can. 
There's  one  I  know 
Just  such  a  public  benefactor. 
I  don't  hesitate  to  call  him  so. 
Gaspard  Deburau. 
But  how  very  few  have  done  him  justice ! 

Deburau 
Really!  In  this  world  that's  how  it  always  is. 

Doctor 
A  great  artist,  too. 
See  him  and  tell  me  if  that's  not  true. 

Deburau 
I'll  go  to-night. 

Doctor 
That's  right. 
He's  the  doctor  for  you. 
Wait  till  you  begin  to  laugh. 

1 80 


ACT  III 

Deburau 
Tm  smiling  already,  you  see. 

Doctor 
Good.    In  anticipation ! 
There's  half  the  battle  won. 

Deburau 
Thanks  for  your  visit. 

Doctor 
You'll  have  well  repaid  it 
If  you  make  Deburau  cure  you. 

Deburau 
And  do  you  divide  the  fee? 

Doctor 
Ah,  no,  professional  etiquette 
Forbids  that  to  be  done. 
But,  my  dear  sir,  half 
A  doctor's  reputation 
Is  made  by  such  collaboration. 
Science  needs  all  the  help  that  she  can  get. 
So  I  shall  quite  contentedly 
Let  him  work  the  cure  if  I  take  the  credit. 

Charles  comes  back. 
i8i 


DEBURAU 

Deburau 
Show  the  doctor  out. 

Charles  takes  the  Doctor  into  the  passage 
and  then  returns. 

Deburau 
He's  right. 
That's  the  way. 
What  have  you  been  about? 

Charles 
I've  been  to  the  theatre.    I  saw  .   .   . 

Deburau 
Well? 

Charles 
"Pierrot  on  the  See-Saw." 

Deburau 
What  are  they  playing  to-night? 

Charles 
They're  reviving  "Old  Clo'." 

Deburau 

Who  plays  my  part? 
182 


ACT  III 

Charles 
Legrand. 

Deburau 
Who  did  you  say? 

Charles 
Legrand. 

Deburau 
Does  he  indeed!  That's  a  poor  sort  of  joke. 
Give  me  my  hat,  give  me  my  cloak, 
Don't  stand  and  stare. 
Rtm  on  and  tell  them  I'll  be  there 
And  ready  to  start. 

I  fear  Legrand's  prospects  are  hardly  bright, 
/play  to-night! 


183 


THE  FOURTH  ACT 


185 


THE  FOURTH  ACT 

The  interior  of  the  Theatre  again.  They 
are  playing  ''Old  Clo\''  There  is  a  full 
house,  but  the  audience  is  fidgety.  Deburau 
is  no  longer  the  same  actor,  he  seems  to  have 
lost  his  charm  and  power.  He  is  making 
strenuous  efforts  to  he  amusing  but  without 
any  success.  He  hesitates  and  makes  one 
mistake  after  another.  The  audience  very 
palpably  begins  to  weary  of  him  and  pres- 
ently a  hiss  is  heard.  From  that  there 
swells  in  a  very  few  minutes  a  horrible 
noise  of  booing  and  cat-calling.  Bertrand 
and  the  Barker  at  the  back  of  the  pit  are 
in  great  consternation. 

The  Barker 
There's  a  boo ! 

Bertrand 
Hark  at  them ! 
187 


DEBURAU 

Barker 

Giving  him  the  bird ! 
Him!  Why? 

Bertrand 
He's  past  his  job.    He's  done  for. 

Barker 

Oh,  my  word ! 

Deburau  pauses  in  his  part  and  then 
slowly  draws  near  the  footlights.  He  makes 
an  appealing  gesture  to  the  audience  and 
silence  jails. 

Voices  in  the  Audience 
He's  going  to  speak! 

Listen ! 

Fancy  his  speaking! 

What  luck! 
First  time  he's  done  it! 

I  always  thought  he  was  dumb ! 
He  has  got  pluck. 

Deburau  does  attempt  to  speak,  but  he 
cannot  utter  a  single  word.    So  he  tells  his 
audience  by  a  Jew  simple  gestures  that  he 
1 88 


ACT  IV 

is  ill,  that  he  can't  go  on,  that  he  has  played 
for  the  last  time.  He  asks  their  forgiveness; 
he  says  good-bye.  By  this  time  there  is  dead 
silence  in  the  house.  Deburau's  tears  are 
falling.  He  makes  his  last  gesture,  slowly, 
sadly  kissing  his  hand.  Suddenly  the  cur- 
tain falls.  Without  another  word  the  audi- 
ence rises,  without  another  word  they  move 
away  leaving  the  theatre  empty. 

When  they  are  gone  Bertrand  appears 
again  at  the  door  of  his  office,  while  Laurent 
comes  in  through  the  pass-door.  They  are 
both  horrified. 

Bertrand 
What  a  calamity;  what  a  calamity! 

LaurerU 

Ghastly! 

And  there  he  is  in  his  dressing-room 

Smashed.    Poor  fellow,  oh,  poor  fellow! 

Bertrand 
What!  and youVe  a  kind  word  for  him,  have  you? 
We  can  chalk  that  up  as  his  epitaph. 

189 


DEBURAU. 

Laurent 
A  bit  belated,  this  effort  at  amity, 
Is  it;  sounds  a  bit  hollow? 
Well  .  .  .  while  a  man's  a  success 
What's  an  enemy  more  or  less? 
They're  already  too  many  to  count  by  half. 
But  when  you  seem  tumbling  to  your  doom, 
Though  a  kind  word  can't  save  you, 
Then  it's  worth  the  having. 
And  lastly. 

To  the  man  who  can  give  it  it's  then  worth  the 
giving. 

Bertrand 
So  it  is,  so  it  is. 

To  the  Barker ^  who  has  just  re-entered. 
Where's  to-night's  poster? 

The  Barker 
Right  away,  Guv'nor! 

The  Barker  goes  off  to  get  it. 

Bertrand 
Laurent,  you're  a  hero, 
Most  magnanimous. 

190 


ACT  IV 

But  it  must  have  been  funny 
To  see  you  comforting  Deburau. 

Laurent 
Well,  someone  had  to. 
And  if  you'd  had  any 

Sense  of  your  duty,  you'd  have  been  glad  to, 
Instead  of  standing  and  laughing  at  me. 

Bertrand 
Not  so  free,  my  friend,  not  quite  so  free 
With  yotu"  moral  tropes  where  I'm  concerned. 
It's  proper  and  pretty  to  lose  your  animus 
For  a  fellow  actor  when  he's  in  misfortune. 
It  costs  you  nothing.    But  what'U  it  cost  me,  this 

catastrophe? 
We've  to  open  again  in  an  hour  or  so. 
And,  I  ask  you,  how  can  we?    What  can  we 

do? 
What's  to  be  played  and  who's  to  play  it? 
Why  the  devil  didn't  I  have  him  turned 
Out  of  the  theatre!    I'm  sorry  to  say  it. 
He  has  had  his  triumphs.    But  this  last  trophy 
Breaks  the  back  of  my  poor  old  show. 
It's  a  death  blow! 

191 


DEBURAU 

And  that's  why,  my  dear  Laurent,  I  can't  quite 
sing  to  your  tune. 

The  Barker  returns  carrying  a  large 
poster  with  Deburau's  name  on  it,  which  he 
pins  up  with  a  sigh. 

Bertrand 
Well,  what  did  they  make  of  it? 

The  Barker 

Who? 

Bertrand 

Who,  by 
Heaven,  who  d'you  think  I  mean,  you  booby? 
The  audience.    What  had  they  to  say? 

The  Barker 
Nothing!  They  just  walked  out  and  away 
Without  a  word,  with  nothing  to  say, 
Sorry. 

Bertrand 
Sorry? 

The  Barker 

Yes,  and  sad, 
And  enough  to  make  'em  sad  and  sorry. 

192 


ACT  IV 

For  they  won't  see  him  again, 

Nor,  you  may  add, 

Anyone  like  him  in  a  hurry. 

So  out  they  were  walking  into  the  rain 


Bertrand 


Is  it  raining! 


The  Barker 
.   .   .  Some  of  their  faces  were  wet  .    . 
Saying  their  good-bye  in  dumb  show, 
Just  as  Deburau  had  taught  them  to 
Often  he's  made  'em  laugh  .    .   . 

Bertrand 

Once  too  often! 

The  Barker 
Well,  the  once  too  often  made  *em  cry. 
This  is  a  day  they  won't  forget. 

Bertrand 
Nor  shall  I! 

Shall  we  now  endeavour  to  soften 
The  blow  by  advertising : — 
See  the  surprising 

»3  193 


DEBURAU 

Comedian  that  makes  you  weep  in  buckets  full? 
That'd  please  the  dear  public ;  we'd  soon  have  our 
pockets  full ! 

The  Barker 
Guv'nor,  I  know  a  bit  about  audiences,  don't  I? 
D'you  think  it's  what  happened   to-night  they 
mind? 

Bertrand 
I  mind  it ! 

The  Barker 

You  may, 

But  not  they. 

They'd  forgive  the  failure 

If  they  could  get  back  again 

A  few  of  those  old  evenings  behind  it. 

Laurent 
To-night  doesn't  matter  .    .    . 

Bertrand 
Oh,  let's  get  on  the  track  again. 
Of  what's  to  be  done  now. 

194 


ACT  IV 

Laurent 

The  real  mess  is 
That  it  isn't  so  easy  to  find 
Another  Deburau  who  may  lure  .    .    . 
And  a  nice  easy  task  he'll  have  of  it,  won't  he  ?  .  .  . 
Us  to  forgetting 
And  not  regretting 
The  old  Deburau 's  successes. 
Who  have  you  got  in  your  mind? 

Bertrand 
Paul  Legrand,  I  suppose. 

Laurent 
Legrand!  For  good? 

Bertrand 

Why  not  ?    He  knows 
All  the  parts. 

Laurent 
Oh,  yes,  he  knows  the  parts. 

Bertrand 
Why  not,  then  ? 

195 


DEBURAU 

Laurent 
Wait  till  he  starts 
To  play  them  all. 

Bertrand 
What  do  I  pay  him  his  salary  for? 

Laurent 
God  knows,  if  you  don't,  my  dear  guv'nor! 

Rohillard  comes  through  the  pass  door. 

Robillard 
Guv'nor. 

Bertrand 
Well? 

Rohillard 
Deburau  wants  to  know 
Who's  to  play  his  part  in  the  show 
To-night. 

Bertrand 
Why? 

Robillard 

Well,  he  wants  to  know. 
196 


ACT  IV 

Bertrand 

Legrand. 

Robillard 

Legrand! 

Bertrand 

That's  settled. 

Robillard 

You  know  what  Deburau  feels  about  him. 

Bertrand 
What  does  it  matter  to  me  what  he  feels! 
Of  course  Legrand  must  play  it. 
Good  heavens !  is  this  a  time  to  visit 
On  my  poor  head  a  silly  whim? 
Legrand  will  get  through. 
What  are  you  after  with  these  appeals, 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do? 

Robillard 

{To  Laurent) 

Well,  I'll  say  it. 

{To  Bertrand) 

Close  for  to-night. 

197 


Is  it! 


DEBURAU 

Bertrand 
Close!! 
What  d'you  think  theatres  were  made  for 
There  are  twenty  stalls  booked  .    .    .  and  paid 

for. 
And  you  suppose 
That  I'm  going  to  close!  ' 


Just  for  this  once. 


To  please  us  all. 


Laurent 

Rohillard 

For  Deburau's  sake. 

Laurent 

Rohillard 

It'll  break,   .    .    .  it'll  break 
His  heart 

If  he  knows  his  part 
Is  to  be  murdered  by  that  .    .    .  that  .    .    . 

Laurent 
Find  some  excuse 

For  shutting  down.    No  one  will  ever  guess 
You  did  it  out  of  kindness. 

198 


ACT  IV 

Bertrand 

What  the  deuce  .    .    .   ! 
No,  no,  I  tell  you.    Don't  keep  on  plaguing  me. 

Robillard 
Then  change  the  play.    You  can't  do  less 
Than  that,  in  decency. 

Bertrand 
I  won't,  that's  flat. 
Legrand  goes  on. 

As  Bertrand  goes  to  take  down  the  poster 
Deburau  enters. 

Deburau 
Please  let  that  be. 

Legrand 
D'you  want  to  play  to-night? 

Deburau 

Never  again. 
Don't  be  afraid. 

199 


DEBURAU 

Bertrand 

Well,  someone  must,  that's  plain. 

Charles,  Justine,  Laplace,  and  Honorine 
have  come  on. 

Deburau 
Well,  someone  shall. 
Let  my  name  be. 

Bertrand 
This  is  nonsensical. 

Deburau 
Well,  then,  let  me  .    .   . 
At  least  let  me  put  it  right 
In  my  own  way. 
Wait,  and  you'll  see. 

Bertrand 
You  can't  play  and  not  play. 

Deburau 
Are  you  sure?    If  I  just  add  a  C,  a  capital  C? 
There.  {He  does  so.)    That's  enough  to  efface  me 
And  it  gives  you  Monsieur  Charles  Deburau  to 
replace  me. 

200 


Father! 


ACT  IV 

Charles 

Bertrand 
Your  boy? 


Deburau 
If  you  please. 

Bertrand 


But 


Deburau 
Don't  worry.    The  contract  can  wait  till  one  sees 
What  he's  worth.    Or  you  can  give  him  my  first. 
Eight  francs  a  week ;  that  wasn't  the  worst 
Bargain  that  you  ever  made,  my  friend,  was  it? 
Charles,  Monsieur  Bertrand  engages  you 
At  eight  francs  a  week. 

Bertrand 
But  he's  a  child ! 

'  Deburau 

Think  how  a  leading  part  ages  you. 
I  was  just  his  age  when  you  took  me  on. 

201 


DEBURAU 

Bertrand 
But  you  supered. 

Dehurau 
So  I  did. 
And  you  told  me  I'd  never  learn  how  to  speak 
And  I  never  have.    How  I  drove  you  wild. 
How  you  wept  and  how  you  chided. 
A  great  experience ;  he  ought  not  to  lose  it 
And  if  I  were  thinking  of  him  alone  .    .    .    ! 
But  there's  to-night  and  the  theatre's  credit.    We 
Have  that  to  think  of  have  we  not? 
And,  besides,  let's  allow  for  heredity; 
I  never  had  the  father  he's  got. 

Laurent 
That's  true. 

Rohillard 
Let  him  try  it. 

*    Bertrand 
But  he  don't  know  the  part. 

Dehurau 


Yes,  he  does. 
Oh,  I  do! 


Charles 


202 


ACT  IV 

Deburau 
Many's  the  time  he  has  sat  to  spy  it, 
Such  a  little  fellow,  squeezed  up  in  the  wings 
Prompting  me 
Unconsciously ; 
Gesturing  things 
I  was  forgetting 
— Prompting's  an  art — 
Well,  to-night 
I  propose 
To  prompt  him; 
To  sit  and  spy 
From  that  comer  dim. 
Give  up  my  part? 
Not  yet  .    .    .  not  quite ! 
For  to-night 
We're  to  go  shares  in  it   .    .    .he  and  I. 

Charles 
My  child's  game  was  to  play  that  I  was  you. 

Deburau 
What  a  good  game,  now  I  can  play  it,  too! 

{Then  to  the  others) 
Off  with  you  all  and  leave  us  alone. 
Just  for  ten  minutes  give  us  the  stage. 

203 


DEBURAU 

{To  the  Barker) 
Get  along,  you,  and  think  over  your  f unniments ! 
Sorry  to  drive  away  everyone. 

{To  Laurent) 
Ah,  but  thank  you^  good  friend. 

Laurent 
Deburau,  let  me  stay. 

Justine 
And  me. 

Honorine 

Bertrand 
May  I  stay  too? 

The  Barker 
1*11  book  a  seat. 

Deburau 
Do  you  really  want  to  hear  the  sage 
Talk  to  the  youngster?    Oh,  but  I'm  flattered! 
A  pretty  plain  talk  without  any  ornaments. 
And  no  one  need  stay  to  the  end. 

204 


What  a  treat ! 


ACT  IV 

{To  Robillard) 
Run  to  my  dressing  place,  there's  a  good  fellow. 
Get  me  a  black  stick,  rouge,  my  powder  .    .    .  the 

white, 
Not  the  yellow. 
Oh,  and  a  couple  of  bands  for  the  head;  and  the 

tattered 
Hat  with  the  broad  brim,  too. 
And  open  the  wardrobe  and  bring  me  the  dress — 
The  one  hanging  farthest  back  on  your  right ; 
I  wore  it  for  my  first  success 
And  so  shall  you 
To-night. 

Robillard  has  gone  for  the  things,  and 
when  he  returns  with  them,  Deburau,  as  he 
goes  on  talking,  makes  Charles  up  and 
dresses  him. 

Now,  pay  attention  if  you  please. 
Get  this  firmly  fixed  in  your  head, 
Acting's  as  easy  as  shelling  peas, 
If  .    .    .  Tell  me  now  and  tell  me  truly 
Are  you  nervous  about  to-night? 
Oh,  of  course,  I  know  that  you'll  duly 
Say  that  you  are.    But  are  you  in  a  real  fright? 

205 


DEBURAU 

Charles 
I  .   .   . 

Deburau 
Truly  now,  I  said. 

Charles 
Yes,  I  am.    I'm  terrified. 

Bertrand 
Now,  I  ask  you,  if  he's  terrified  .    .    .    ! 

Deburau 
As  he  should  be,  he's  terrified. 
But  that's  our  own  affair — 
The  audience  doesn't  want  a  share. 

{To  Charles) 
Shake  in  your  shoes  in  your  dressing-room; 
Feel  sure  you've  forgotten 
Your  part;  that  you're  rotten 
In  what  you  remember.    Turn  so  pale 
That  rouge  won't  redden  you.    Be  certain  you'll 

fail. 
Walk  forth  as  a  criminal  walks  to  his  doom — 
But,  once  on  the  scene — 

Once  the  bell  starts  to  ring  and  the  curtain  to  rise, 

206 


ACT  IV 

Let  your  fright  fly  away  with  it  up  to  the  flies. 

Once  you're  over  the  brink 

If  you  must  think  of  yourself  at  all,  think 

You're  the  greatest  actor  the  world's  ever  seen! 

Now,  remember  this.     Play  light, 

And  be  simple;  be  sincere, 

But  never  be  trite. 

And  never,  oh  never 

Try  to  be — or  to  seem — too  clever. 

What  you  mean,  when  you  do  it,  must  of  course 

be  quite  clear. 
And  it  must  seem  quite  clear  what  you're  going 

to  do. 
For  an  audience  must  always  feel  sure  of  you. 
Yet,  when  you  do  it,  it  must  seem  accidentally 

done. 
That's  not  so  difficult  as  it  sounds — 
It's  an  effect  quite  easy  to  get 
When  an  audience  is  watching  you, 
And  a  play  hangs  on  you. 
Ah  .    .    .  and  before  I  forget 
Never,  on  any  grounds, 
Never  play  second  to  anyone! 
Now,  as  to  our  dumb  show,  always  do 
Whatever  comes  most  naturally  to  you. 

207 


DEBURAU 

An  audience  isn't  difficult 
To  please;  if  you  find  them  so,  that's  your  fault. 
It's  only  that  they  won't  stand  blundering. 
You  must  never  leave  them  wondering 
What  on  earth  it  is  you're  at. 

Laurent 
That  was  your  secret.    One  turn  and  they  knew. 

Deburau 

It's  a  secret  anyone's  welcome  to, 

Theirs  for  the  guessing. 

(Come  a  little  closer.) 

Now;  the  ordinary  gestures,  the  "Yes,  sir"  and 

No,  sir," 
You  can't  grow  wrong  over.    When  you  come  to 

expressing 
Something  elaborate;  first  think  it  right. 
Nothing  hard  in  that  ... 
(Quite  still  now,  don't  move) 
If  you  want  to  convey  "What  a  pretty  girl" 
Think  it  and  do 

Whatever  comes  into  your  head  to  do. 
If  it's  madness  or  love. 
That  you're  frightened,   or  pleased,   that  your 

head's  in  a  whirl, 

208 


ACT  IV 

Think,  think  hard,  think  intensely 
That  you  are  in  love,  or  in  a  fright. 
Then,  when  you  can't  keep  still  any  longer, 
When  your  feeling  grows  stronger 
Than  you  are,  still  hold  yourself  tensely 
And  steep  yourself  in  it 
For  the  millionth  part  of  a  minute, 
Then  ...  let  yourself  go, 
And  it'll  come  right. 
Don't  copy  me. 
Don't  copy  anyone. 
A  professor 

Of  acting  can  only  teach  you  his  faults, 
But — let  me  see — 
There  may  be  one 

Or  two  tricks.    To  become  the  possessor 
Of  these  .    .    .  it's  as  simple  as  turning  somer- 
saults ! 
For  example : 
That's  Time  passing. 
That's  for  the  weather. 
Make  your  gestures  ample. 
Now ;  if  you're  at  a  crossing 
And  someone  asks  you  the  way  and  whether 
It's  long.    Make  it  long,  so.    Very  long,  so. 
14  209 


DEBURAU 

And  that  little  gesture  is  a  good  sudden  "No." 

You  can  do  it  politely  .    .    . 

(Lift  your  eyelids.    That's  better) 

When  you're  reading  a  book  or  a  letter 

Let  your  eyes  rest  lightly 

For  a  shade  of  a  second  on  every  word  .    .   . 

(Tuck  in  your  hair  a  bit ;  it's  unsightly) 

Don't  play  with  your  back 

To  an  audience,  or  their  attention  will  slack. 

That  you  can't  afford. 

And  each  time  that  you  play 

A  part,  add  something  new 

While  something  you 

Feel  is  less  good,  take  away. 

And  .    .    .  love  your  work. 

Remember  the  actor's  calling. 

Is  the  finest  in  the  world. 

Is  it  sometimes  a  little  gaUing 

When,  with  lip  politely  curled 

And  a  supercilious  smirk, 

You  are  told  to  your  face 

That  the  theatre  has  no  place 

Among  important  things? 

I  tell  you,  it's  an  art, 

That  has  its  springs 

2IO 


ACT  IV 

In  the  heart 

Of  all  mankind. 

So  when  the  world's  wiseacres  slight  it,  never  mind. 

And  the  triumph  of  triumphs,  to  hold 

A  whole  house  breathless,  to  mould 

Them  to  tears  or  to  laughter! 

Would  I  sell  that  power  for  a  king's 

Ransom?    Picture  it  now. 

The  curtain  has  risen. 

For  a  moment  after, 

Silence.     Row  upon  row. 

So  silent  you'd  swear  you  could  hear  the  shakings 

Of  the  earrings  that  bedizen 

That  lady  there. 

Or  the  manager  as  he  absconds  with  your  share 

Of  the  evening's  takings. 

All  of  a  sudden  you  fling 

Across  the  footlights  to  them 

Some  trivial  thing 

That  takes  their  fancy. 

Then  it  begins. 

A  whisper  they  sway  to,  a  rhythm. 

First  it's  only  a  smile  you  can  see. 

Like  a  ripple  that  has  just 

Been  raised  by  that  tiny  gust 

211 


DEBURAU 

Of  laughter.    But  the  laughter  will  keep  growing 

Till  a  gale  of  it  is  blowing ; 

A  gale  that  spins 

Away  with  it,  amid  the  silence  it  has  broken 

Into  a  thousand  pieces,  every  token 

Of  dullness,  of  care, 

Of  trouble,  of  despair. 

That's  what  they  come  hoping  for.    It  isn't  worth 

their  while 
To  sit  three  hours  in  a  theatre  on  the  chance  that 

you'll  make  them  smile. 
Though,  of  course,  there's  some  credit  in  making 

them  smile. 
But  high  renown 
We  leave  to  tragedians. 

It's  they  who  will  always  be  called  the  great  actors. 
Odd,  that  in  this  world  it's  only  expedients 
For  making  folk  miserable  bring  you  fame. 
Well,  let  them  stick  to  it. 
That  cold  academical  glory  of  theirs, 
Their  temple  of  High  Art,  we  can't  add  a  touch  to  it. 
Let  them  look  down 
On  you,  call  you  a  clown. 
Let  the  great  world  neglect  and  forget  you.    Who 

cares? 

212 


ACT  IV 

It  does  the  same 

To  all  its  other  benefactors. 

You  get  your  pay  and  more  than  your  pay 

If  just  for  a  little  you  draw  the  breath 

Of  that  glory  that  passes  so  quickly  away, 

Popularity. 

Only  one  thing  is  better  and  that's  too  great  a 

rarity ! 
If  you've  tasted  that  life  you  need  never  feel 
Starved,  till  you  come  to  your  final  meal 
With  death. 

He  now  turns  Charles  to  the  audience 
dressed  like  himself. 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  my  successor, 
Latest  recruit  to  your  ranks. 
Please  to  give  him  a  sympathetic 
Welcome.    My  sincerest  thanks. 
He  is  to  be  my  best  performance 
And  my  last,  that's  certain. 
Here  I  stand  prophetic, 
"A  greater  succeeds  a  lesser." 
I  finish;  he's  ready  to  commence. 
Prompter,  ring  up  the  curtain. 
Wait  a  moment,  though, 

213 


DEBURAU 

Why  couldn't  you  pull  it  up  again 

When  it  had  fallen  ...  on  me  .   .   .  just  now? 

The  Prompter 
{Who  has  appeared  on  the  stage) 
The  rope  gave  way. 

Dehurau 
The  rope  gave  way ! 

Robillard,  do  you  remember  hearing  that  gipsy 
say  .    .    .   ? 

Prompter 

And  I  can't  think  why.     It  had  had  no  extra 

strain  .    .   . 

Dehurau 
.   .   .  She  said  that  one  day  it  would  break  of 

itself, 
And  never  rise  again  for  me; 
From  that  day  on  I'd  be  laid  on  the  shelf. 
It  has  come  then,  you  see. 
Oh,  painted  curtain  that  fell 
Between  my  audience  and  me; 
So  lightly  on  the  stage. 
So  heavily  on  my  soul. 
For  the  last  time,  I  could  tell. 
Like  a  guillotine  it  fell. 

214 


ACT  IV 

Oh,  faded  curtain,  for  me 

The  emblem  of  the  whole 

Of  Life's  beauty  and  mystery. 

In  the  book  of  my  life  you  bound 

I  have  turned  the  final  page; 

Sleep  is  stealing  on  me, 

I  let  it  fall  to  the  ground. 

They  throw  on  the  soldier's  bier 

The  flag  that  he  held  so  dear. 

When  I've  to  be  carried  away 

Don't  stifle  me  with  the  pall 

Of  a  solemn  funeral. 

Fling  over  me 

This  curtain,  carelessly. 

That  the  people  you  meet  on  the  way 

May  look  and  smile  and  say, 

"Why,  at  last  that  poor  buffoon 

Of  a  Pierrot's  flown  back  to  the  moon." 

But  now,  ring  up,  stand  by. 

For  the  first  appearance  of  a  new  Pierrot. 

The  Curtain  goes  up. 

Look,  how  it  rises  to  welcome  you. 
By  itself  almost, 

215 


DEBURAU 

As  it  fell  of  its  own  accord  for  me. 
Qtiick,  on  you  go. 

Charles  dashes  through  the  pass  door  and 
on  to  the  stage. 

There  now,  look  at  him!    Won't  he  do? 
Where's  another  theatre  can  boast 
Such  a — such  a  prodigy? 

Robillard 
{half  chaffingly)  Come,  you're  not  going  to  cry! 

Deburau 
Don't  grudge  me  a  tear  or  two  of  shameless  envy. 
There  he  stands  on  the  threshold  of  paradise ! 
Enter;  first  entrance, 
Dancing.     No,  no,  not  at  a  run ! 
That's  right,  that's  charming;  that'll  entrance 
Them.    Yes,  your  career  has  begun. 
If  you'll  be  humble,  and  take  just  a  Httle  advice 
I'll  back  that  you'll  then  vie 
With  the  best  of  them.    Now,  come  here. 
Stand  where  I  used  to  stand. 
Where? 
Why,  in  the  middle ! 

216 


ACT  IV 

Say  "Good  morning."    No,  no,  one  wave  of  the 

hand  ^ 

Will  do.    And  don't  fiddle. 
When  you've  done  a  thing,  let  it  alone. 
That's  better. 

Laurent 
Show  him  your  Starving  Tramp. 

Deburau 
Yes,  yes.    Now,  turn  toward 
Us.    Tell  us  you're  dying  of  hunger.     Stamp 
With  the  cold.    No,  that's  too  broad. 
Not  like  an  animal,  like  a  man. 
That's  better.    Again. 

Robillard 
Now,  the  man  thieving  and  caught  as  he  ran. 

Deburau 
That's  not  so  easy.    Come  here,  I'll  explain. 
When  you  want  to  show  .    .    . 

He  talks  to  Charles  over  the  footlights. 

Bertrand 

{To  the  Barker)  St!  Amed6e,  here! 

217 


DEBURAU 

The  Barker 

Guv'nor? 

Bertrand 

We're  in  for  it. 
You'll  have  to  beat  the  big  drum  for  the  youngster, 
Tell  'em  this  is  the  very  latest  bit 
Of  talent  picked  from  amongst  a 
Crowd  of  competitors  put  in  the  shade  by  him. 

The  Barker 
I  can  gas  a  lot  about  the  father. 

Bertrand 
I'd  rather 

You  didn't.    He's  done  for.    Why  worry? 
What's  the  use  now  of  successes  once  made  by 

him? 
We've  the  future  to  think  about. 
If  you  mention  papa  you'd  better  say 
That  the  boy  can  beat  his  father  hollow. 
Tell  'em  he's  what  papa  was  thirty  years  back, 
Tell  'em  his  father  has  trained  him  to  follow 
His  footsteps  and  to  cut  him  out. 
And  tell  'em  that  it  has  cost  me  a  stack 

218 


ACT  IV 

Of  money  to  collar  him..    Lay  it  on  thick 
And  be  quick. 

The  Barker  goes  away. 

Deburau 
Drop  yotir  ctirtain.    The  lesson  is  over. 
Ring  up  on  the  show 
Whenever  you  like;  and  discover 
The  new  Pierrot. 

The  Curtain  is  dropped. 

Robillard 
Gaspard,  it's  good  of  you. 

Deburau 
What  is? 

Robillard 
To  give  the  boy  his  chance. 

Deburau 
(Shrugging)    What  else  could  a  father  do? 

Laurent 
To  have  given  him  all  you've  got, 
To  have  told  him  all  you  know. 

219 


DEBURAU 

Robillard 
{To  Charles)  Here;  let's  have  a  glance 
At  you.    Well,  are  you  happy? 

Charles 

Oh,  yes! 

Deburau 

{To  himself)  I've  not  .    . 
I've  not  told  him  all  I  know! 

The  girls  gather  round  Charles. 

Justine 
And  how  well  you  look! 

Honorine 

Charmingj 

Justine 

So  smart! 

Honorine 
You'll  have  successes  in  plenty. 
Of  all  sorts. 

Justine 
Yes! 

220 


ACT  IV 

Honorine 

You've  made  a  start 
Already. 

Justine 
How  old  are  you,  Charles? 

Charles 

I'm  twenty. 

Deburau 
Charles,  come  here. 
Are  you  losing  your  heart? 
Oh,  don't  fear 
I'll  take  that  in  bad  part. 
But,  for  a  minute  more,  listen  to  me. 
I  look  back  over  my  life, 
Its  failures  and  successes, 
Its  impotence  and  strife; 
Now,  at  the  end  of  it,  this  is 
The  lesson  I've  learnt  by  heart. 
There  are  two  unfading  things. 
Love  and  Art. 
And  not  so  regretfully 
I  see  them  to-day  take  wings; 
I've  had  my  share  of  both  in  a  way. 

221 


DEBURAU 

But  if  you've  heard  me  say 

Love  was  all  that  counted, 

I  was  wrong. 

Love  without  art  amounted 

To  something  for  a  season ; 

But  it  can't  hold  you  long. 

Art  without  love?    That's  rhyme  without  reason. 

No,  you  must  strive 

To  hold  them  each  by  a  hand, 

If  you  want  to  understand 

What  life  is  innermostly; 

If  you  want  to  be 

Both  happy  and  alive. 

To-night  you  may  make  your  first  success ; 

If  you  do,  there'll  be  many  more  to  follow. 

Do  you  think  they'll  be  enough  to  content  you? 

Do  you  think   the   applause  will   never   sound 

hollow? 
Do  you  think  that  is  all  the  good  God  meant  you 
To  have  when  he  gave  you  the  heart  of  a  man 
In  the  skin  of  an  actor?    Gather  life's  joys  while 

you  can; 
Life's  sorrows,  life's  dangers; 
It's  yoiu*  birthright  to  know  them. 
A  man's  life,  nothing  less! 

222 


ACT  IV 

Give  your  audience  whole-heartedly  all  that  you 

owe  them; 
But  remember  that,  friends  as  they  are,  they  are 

strangers. 
And  while  their  applauding  still  echoes  above  you 
Find  someone  to  love  .    .    .  and,  oh,  someone 

to  love  you. 

The  voice  oj  the  Barker  is  heard  and  the 
heat  of  his  big  drum. 

The  Barker 
Ladies  and  gentlemen  .    .    . 

Honorine 

Quiet;  he's  begim! 

Justine 
Open  the  door;  we  can  hear  better  then.    What 
fun! 

The  Barker 
Gentlemen  and  ladies, 
Our  trade  is 
To  amuse  you ; 

And  to-night  we  offer  something  new, 
A  new  Pierrot, 

223 


DEBURAU 

To  take  the  place  of  our  world-famed  Deburau. 

I  know  what  you're  going  to  say,  my  man; 

No  one  can. 

Well,  I  excuse  you, 

There  are  precious  few 

Who  could.    But  I'm  not  boasting.    I  believe 

That  in  these  serious  matters  one  can't  afford  to 

deceive 
One's  public ;  and  I  never  do. 
But  we  are  going  to  deceive  you,  too. 
For  when  you  see  him,  with  one  accord 
You'll  say:  That  is  Deburau! 
And  you'll  be  right,  though  you'll  be  wrong. 
What's  the  secret,  what's  the  riddle? 
Who  can  this  be? 
As  good  as  he; 

As  light  on  his  feet,  and  rather  lighter; 
As  clever  as  he,  and  cleverer  too ; 
As  charming,  and  with  a  little  more  charm? 
Well,  I  give  you  my  word 
That  this  Deburau 

Who  is  not  Deburau,  and  is  Deburau   .    .    . 
Gentlemen,  does  it  take  you  so  long 
To  guess? 

I  thought  you'd  have  stopped  me  in  the  middle. 

224 


ACT  IV 

Who  could  be  as  great  a  success 

As  Deburau,  and  the  possessor 

Of  all  his  secrets; 

Who  but  one? 

His  son ! 

We  present  you  to-night  with  his  son  and  successor. 

Charles 
Father,  what  Hes  he's  telUng!    What  a  shame! 

Deburau 
Hush !  That's  how  he  earns  his  money. 


Charles 

Let  me  stop  him. 

Deburau 

No,  no! 

Charles 

But  how  could  I  ever  earn 

half 

your  fame? 

Deburau 

Who  knows? 

The  pubHc  is  so 

funny ! 

15 

225 

DEBURAU 

The  Barker 
Playgoers  of  Paris, 

TJie  performance  is  just  about  to  begin 
And  he  who  tarries 
Stands  a  very  good  chance  of  not  getting  in. 

THE  END 


226 


Jk  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS 


Complete  Catalof(ues  •vnt 
on  application 


Enter  Madame 

A  Play  in  Three  Acts 
By 

Gilda  Varesi  and  Dolly  Byrne 

Introduction  by 
Alexander  Woollcott 

**  It  reads  as  well  as  it  acts" — which 
is  saying  much,  because  the  on-stage 
perfection  of  Enter  Madame  is  extra- 
ordinary. The  delicious  situations, 
delicate  humor,  and  sparkling  dialogue 
have  made  the  play  an  outstanding  suc- 
cess. And  here  in  the  book  you  have 
it  all,  permanently. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


The  Bad  Man 

A  Novel 

By 

Charles  Hanson  Towne 

Based  on  the  Play  by 
Porter  Emerson  Browne 

Who  has  not  heard  of  this  delightful 
Bad  Man?  For  many  months  he  has 
been  seen  in  the  theatre;  now  he  is 
captured  between  the  covers  of  a  book. 
Here  he  is.  Shake  hands  with  him. 
Get  to  know  him.  He  is  the  best  com- 
panion you  could  find  for  a  quiet  hour 
or  two.  The  novel  is  as  exciting  as 
the  play. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


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